The Ship That Never Sailed
by fremionefeels
Summary: This started as a request from my best friend to write some Hermione x Fred and turned into several hundred tumblr followers and a renewal of my OTP. This is an ongoing collection of those one-shots. For more information, please see my profile. Rated T for some occasional language.
1. The Ball

Snow swirled around the frosted windows, the wind howling through the corridors, and the endless shrieking and chattering seemed to never end.

"You're taking _him?_ What were you thinking? _"_

"I'm so jealous! Mum wouldn't buy me new ones -"

"Green is perfect with your eyes!"

"You can't just _ask Cedric Diggory -"_

"What about Lissy? I don't think she's been asked -"

It should have made Fred feel better that he wasn't alone in waiting. He might have been taunting his little brother about hanging around, but he only talked a big game.

In reality, he was starting to wish this stupid ball had never come up in the first place.

"Fred? Oy, Fred, wake up!"

Fred jumped as he looked over to see Lee Jordan and a face that matched his own perfectly staring intently at him. He plastered a grin on his face. "Binns, eh? I'm still asleep."

"You can do better than that! I'm ashamed to call you my brother," George said with a sigh of mock disappointment. "And here, after all these years, your game is slipping."

Lee clapped Fred's shoulder with a large hand. "Cut him some slack, George. The poor bastard looks like he's about to puke!"

Lee wasn't totally wrong, Fred thought. He shouldn't have wanted to. Really, he should have been fine. He'd known her for years. She'd come round the house. She'd spent most of the previous summer there. She'd more or less been brought in as another member of the family. He could talk to her. It was no big deal.

But it was.

She'd changed. She'd stopped, for the most part, of being such a know-it-all. She'd started to let herself relax. And while he still thought she was insane for trying to earn rights for house elves, if he was honest, he found it cute. The determination that was written all over her face. The sincere belief that she could make a change.

He was even catching himself watching her study during long nights in the common room. The way her forehead creased whenever she was taking notes. The way her eyes would sparkle when she was telling his oblivious brother and Harry about something she'd found in a book. The way she'd laugh. He loved making her laugh.

He'd been trying to do it more lately.

Fred stopped in his tracks as he reached the library. Looking at the other two, he waved at them. "I'm going to pop in here for a second."

It didn't take an explanation.

"Yeah, good luck on that," Lee said, a touch of doubt in his voice.

Gred hopped to attention and saluted his brother. "Go fight the good fight."

Fred nodded, nerves starting to hit, and cleared his throat. He could do this. If he could fly around on a broom hitting heavy bludgers around a pitch, he could ask one girl out.

He scanned the library as he closed the heavy door behind him. There was plenty of chattering still inside the library, but it was held to low whispers for fear of Madam Pince, the formidable librarian.

It didn't take long to find Hermione. She was sitting in the corner, books laid out around the table in front of her. He smiled as she pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, deep in concentration. Her eyes were squinty and her brow was furrowed.

Fred took a deep breath and walked toward her, being sure to try not to scare her. As he reached the table, he grabbed a chair, pulled it out, and let himself drop into the seat. Hermione looked up and Fred gave her a dazzling grin.

"Fred!" Hermione said, smiling. "What are you doing here? Please tell me Ron and Harry aren't at it aga-"

"I solemnly swear," Fred cut in, holding his hand up as a vow, "that they are only up to good."

Hermione smiled. "Oh good, because I have a mountain of work to do and I do not have time to be a referee." Her hair, frizzy under duress, looked soft, and all he wanted to do was push another piece behind her free ear. He wanted to reach out and press a hand to her cheek.

Instead, she cut him off.

"What brings you in here?"

He could have run. He easily could have said Ron needed help, or Harry, or even Ginny. But Hermione wasn't stupid - she and Ginny were friends; she'd know.

Instead, Fred took a deep breath to steady himself.

"I, ah, I was actually wondering," Fred said, trying not to stare into Hermione's eyes. It was look staring into molten chocolate. "I was wondering, if you'd be interested, I mean if you want, if you'd maybe, you know, possibly, want to go to the Yule Ball with me."

Hermione's face fell and so did Fred's stomach. Oh god, what had he done? What had he asked? What was he going to do?

"Fred..." Hermione frowned. He couldn't tell if she was actually upset or if she was irritate that he'd asked. "Oh, Fred, I'm so sorry. Someone's already asked me."

Fred nodded and jumped up from his seat, hoping to run away before his emotions betrayed him.

"Right, right, of course," he said quickly, trying not to look at her. "Yeah, I should have realized - well I mean it's late - of course you'd - yeah, no I understand. I'm sorry I -"

"Fred."

" - asked, it was stupid, if I'd have thought it - "

"Fred!"

He looked up, his cheeks reddening by the second, threatening to turn his head into what would resemble a turnip.

"I wish you'd asked me sooner," Hermione said quietly.

Fred's heart soared. It probably wasn't healthy, going from such a low low to an incredibly high high, but here he was. _"I wish you'd asked me sooner."_ There was a chance. He still had a chance.

It wouldn't be today, but maybe it would be one day.

He wouldn't give up.


	2. The End - Fred

_"Did I mention I'm resigning?"_

 _"You're joking, Perce!" shouted Fred, as the Death Eater he was battling collapsed under the weight of three separate Stunning Spells. Thicknesse had fallen to the ground with tiny spikes erupting all over him; he seemed to be turning into some form of sea urchin. Fred looked at Percy with glee._

 _"You actually are joking, Perce...I don't think I've heard you joke since you were - "_

The air exploded. We had been grouped together, Harry Ron, Fred, Percy and me, the two Death Eaters at our feet, one Stunned, the other Transfigured: and in that fragment of a moment, when danger seemed temporarily, at bay, the world was rent apart.

I screamed as we were all thrown around the corridor. Stone, mortar, and othe wreckage flew through the air, clipping us, landing around us. I could feel my arm searing where it felt like I'd been cut. Cold air must have meant the wall was blown out from around us.

There was a cry that sent a chill down my spine. I staggered to my feet and saw Harry looking past me. I turned my head and saw the three red-heads lying on the ground near the hole in the wall. I felt Harry grab my hand and we climbed over the debris.

"No - no - no!" someone was shouting. "No! Fred! No!"

My heart lurched. No. No, it couldn't be. It wasn't possible.

Percy was shaking his brother - my boyfriend, the first and only man I'd ever loved, the man who had been there through thick and thin, the man I'd wanted to spend forever with when this damned war was over - and Ron was kneeling beside them, and Fred's eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face.

Everything moved in slow motion. The bangs and blasts around me seemed to be growing distant, like a train as it moved away through the underground. I couldn't hear. Spots were flickering on the edges of my vision. Fred couldn't be dead. He was alive. He had to be. It was a sick joke. I'd hit him, I wouldn't speak to him for a few hours, but I'd be so relieved to feel his arms around me that I couldn't stay angry. He'd jump up any second.

"Get down!" Harry yelled, nearly in my ear, as more curses flew through the cold around us. I vaguely felt hands on my arms, pulling me to the ground, keeping me from being hit. I wish they'd let the jets of light hit me. I didn't want to see a world without Fred.

Percy was laying across him, shielding him. Harry yelled Percy's name, telling him to move. How could we move? How could we leave him? He couldn't stay here. Now they were pulling me up to my feet. Who was pulling me? As I looked toward Ron, I saw the spiders.

I screamed.

I remembered flashes of light all around me. I remembered Fenrir Greyback. I remembered the snake. I remembered Snape. I remembered the horrible, horrifying things I'd seen in and around the castle. The death.

But all I could focus on was Fred's body on the floor of the Great Hall. I walked toward the family of mourning gingers and as I reached my extended family, Ginny pulled me into a hug.

There was nothing to be said.

I turned around as we let each other go and slowly lowered myself to the floor, my eyes not leaving his face. His eyes, a vague smile still playing on his lips, his hair flopped every which way. My hands trembled as I reached toward his red hair sprawled across his forehead and gently pushed it back.

I couldn't breathe.

The tears came fast and hard, streaming down my face. I could hear a distant, horrifying wail. I didn't know where it was coming from, but it seemed to be nearby. I didn't care. I laid across his body, wrapping my arms around him. Twenty-four hours ago, he'd have pulled me close and kissed my forehead before pecking my nose and then moving to my lips.

Twenty-four hours ago, he'd have laced our fingers together and kissed my hand.

Twenty-four hours ago, things would have been fine.

Instead, the world had ended.

I could feel an arm on my arm, a hand stroking my hair, another body behind me trying to hold me close, a soothing voice in my ear.

"I know...I know...Oh, dear, I know..."

Then I felt sobs shaking the body behind me.

Molly.

I was acting as though I was the only one who's world was shattered. I was acting as though the others hadn't lost a son and a brother. I slowly tried to pry myself from him to hug Molly.

I didn't know how long we sat on the floor, holding each other, crying over Fred's body.

All I could think of was the way his voice shook - though he tried to hide it - as he asked me to meet him for a drink the first Hogsmeade weekend during my fifth year.

I could still see the pink that flooded his cheeks as he wrapped his arms around my waist and held me close for the first time before pressing his lips to mine.

I could feel the pit of my stomach twist and turn like it had turned into live snakes every time I saw him after that. I could feel the goosbumps that raised over my skin when he would brush my skin with his.

I could see the triumphant look on his face as he and George gave that horrible hag Umbridge what she deserved.

I could still remember the way my heart leapt the first time he said "I love you."

The first time I'd given in to his touch and felt his skin on mine.

The first time he'd met my parents and how much they loved him.

How Dad said he'd be honored to have Fred as a son-in-law.

The pride that had swelled in my chest every time he'd told me how well the shop was doing and how excited he was for me to see it.

How he'd laughed as I told him about Ron and Harry and love potions.

How he'd laughed as I'd helped he play jokes on George and Bill and Charlie.

The time, while celebrating Bill and Fleur's wedding, that he'd promised we'd have one of our own as he held me close, arms draped around my waist, lips close to my ear as we made plans and promises.

Now, instead of that wedding, we'd have a funeral.

The weeks and months of missing him, of worrying that he had been captured and killed...that was nothing, nothing compared to what was about to be a lifetime of pain.

That was when I realized - the horrible wailing was me.

I felt myself getting dizzy. I untangled my arms from Molly and slowly forced myself to stand. It took me a moment to find my balance, leaning one way and then the other, trying to stand alone as I realized Ron was holding me up.

I was able to take a few, stumbling steps before I looked back on what would have been more than my extended family. Ron was crouched down, shaking, head in his hands. Arthur was hugging Ginny, both of them crying. Molly was hugging Fred now. Percy had sat down next to Fred's head, murmuring to him, pushing his hair from his face.

George.

George was staring blankly ahead, his back to me, not looking around. All I could see was the slight side of his face. He seemed to be rocking, slightly, back and forth. What I could see of his skin was white, making the dark hole that was once his ear look even more out of place. He didn't seem to know where he was.

"Fred," he croaked.

"Fred..." he seemed to be swaying more now. "Fred...don't...don't leave. You can't leave me."

Slowly, George turned to me.

There wasn't a drop of color in his face. The freckles that dusted his cheeks looked nearly black. "Hermione...don't let him leave...make him come back. He listens to you. He doesn't want to make you cry. Make him stop playing."

My head spun, sound rushed away, and I emptied the entire contents of my stomach on the stones below me before I felt the stones come up to meet me.


	3. Studying

The common room had cleared out hours ago. The fire was dying, embers glowing red and orange. Hermione's back pressed into Fred's legs as she leaned against him, a book open on her lap. He trailed fingers through her hair, twisting pieces around his long fingers.

"I'll give you an hour to stop doing that," Hermione said, not looking up from her studying. Fred couldn't figure out why - she already knew the entire book. But he knew it was important to her.

"Only a hour?" he asked as he stopped twisting and started what he thought was supposed to be a braid.

"We have to sleep at some point," Hermione tried to rationalize, trying to not look up. She wanted to tease him as long as possible.

He shook his head. "Sleep is for the weak, Hermione," Fred said, still haphazardly twisting hair. He leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her forehead.

She giggled. " _Fred_ ," she whined. "I can't concentrate!"

"Oh...oh, I'm sorry," he said quietly, pulling his hands away. "I'll tone it down. Can you, uh, concentrate..." he started ticking her sides, " _now?"_

Hermione shrieked and flailed, the book on her lap flying across the floor. "Fred! Fre-he-he-hed!" she giggled, curling into a ball on the floor as Fred's fingers found her sides, the area behind her knees, and her feet, laughing himself.

They rolled around on the floor, Hermione nearly giving up on trying to stop his fingers from moving. "Can you concentrate? Huh? Can you concentrate now?"

Hermione was still laughing and squirming when Fred leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, effectively killing the giggling as Hermione threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back, pressing into him, her book forgotten.

Fred's breath was ragged - both from laughing and from the newfound intensity. "What about studying?"

Hermione gave him a devilish smile and raised an eyebrow. "It can wait until tomorrow."


	4. How We Got Here

Hermione took a deep breath as Ginny tugged and pulled at fabric and strings. The butterflies in her stomach were out of control, their wings beating furiously, making her feel like her insides were alive. Her throat was dry - where was that jug of water when she needed it?

She held onto the window frame and looked out over the trees, the colors that were floating through the air catching the sun and making the yard look like a painting.

Fred was telling George to hide the Firewhiskey from Charlie as Ron and Harry chased down the cat Ginny had insisted on bringing home to retrieve Bill's bow tie. He felt like someone had punched him in the chest, but at the same time, he was light as a feather.

He leaned against the counter and took another swig of the cold pumpkin juice Molly had set out before she went outside to tackle the garden one last time.

How had they gotten here?

He'd been 13 when his idiot baby brother started bringing the know-it-all 12-year-old around. She'd been...well, Ron hadn't been _wrong_ when he'd complained to Fred about how unbearable she was. Fred couldn't figure out why he and Harry Potter were even bothering to keep her around. But then again, Ron _did_ point out that the troll incident was his fault to begin with for being so mean to her. And really, how do you fight a mountain troll without becoming friends?

The 13-year-old with the bushy brown hair spoke so fast, Fred was never really sure what she said. She gave him dirty looks for annoying his _perfect prefect_ brother. What did she know about it? He was 14, thank you. He'd deal with his brother the way he liked.

He was 15 and she came running up to him, tan and freckled from her time in France while his nose was still bright pink from Egypt. He couldn't help but smile while she asked all about the curses he'd seem - and what he hadn't been allowed to see - and it made him happy that someone seemed to be taking an interest in Ginny.

He was 16. He should have been able to ask her to a stupid ball. He gave Ron grief about waiting around, but he sure as hell wasn't about to follow his own advice. He felt his heart hit the floor when she glided down the stairs, her hair shiny and sleek and the blue of her dress making her eyes stand out. He felt a twinge of jealousy every time Victor Krum danced her by and he'd never felt such an urge to jinx someone under his breath.

She was 16 and a prefect and _oh_ she was driving him mad. All he was trying to do was follow his dreams, and she sounded like his mother. But that didn't change the fact that he couldn't look at her without his face burning and a twinge below his belt. He wanted to find the time to kiss her, to pull her close, but how?

And then they were in the Room of Requirement and Harry had gone chasing after Cho and he offered to help her clean things up. They put away books and cushions and mended broken bits of stone, laughing about the D.A. and wondering if poor Neville would _ever_ figure out stunning. They both reached for the same cushion and looked up, stumbling over apologies. He stared into her eyes, the color of milk chocolate with what looked like little flecks of gold. She smiled awkwardly and he could see just how much she'd let Madame Promfrey straighten her teeth the year before.

She'd done something with her hair. It wasn't frizzy the way it was before. It was smoother, but it still curled. He could feel his breathing getting ragged and knew it was then or never. He reached for the cushion, his fingers brushing hers, and leaned in, pressing his lips against hers.

Something inside of him exploded.

He didn't know how long they'd been in there. It could have been minutes, hours, maybe days. But he pulled her close and closer, she dropped the books she'd been holding, which clattered to the floor. She'd returned his enthusiasm, something he'd only hoped for in his wildest dreams. He pulled her waist as close to him as he could and she stood on her tiptoes to hold herself against him as tightly as she could.

He was 18 and she'd been upset when he abruptly ended his education along with his twin, but she'd long since realized they were good at what they were doing and they really were talented. They sat under an umbrella at Florean's the day after she'd gotten off the train in London with large strawberry ice creams and he put a dot of it on her nose and told her he loved her. And oh, did he love her.

She was 17 and he came to the first Hogsmeade weekend, surprising her with a picnic in the village before they slipped away for some time alone.

He was 19 and they danced at his brother's wedding and before all hell had broken loose, he'd promised they'd dance at their own.

It was war. She clung to the radio every night, twiddling the dials, hoping to hear him, hoping for a sign that he was alive. He beat his brother bloody for leaving her in the woods, just her and Harry, confused and hurt and scared. When the battle was over, he held her close and promised he'd never leave her again.

And here they were. His mother sitting in the front row, already drying her eyes. George standing next to him, beaming at his own fiancee two rows back from Molly. And then Ginny was walking toward him in a light blue dress Hermione had helped her choose, giving him a grin that he knew meant, "just you wait."

And there she was. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her, lace pulled tight around her torso before fanning at her waist and trailing behind. Ginny had woven flowers into her sleek hair and her eyes shone with light tears. He covered his mouth, tears welling.

The ceremony wasn't long, but it seemed to take forever to hear what Fred had been waiting for:

"You may kiss the bride."

And he did.


	5. Bulgarians

"You're an absolute prat, Ron," Fred said, shoving his brother out of the way and heading up the stairs. Angelina had gone to bed - and she'd spent more time with George anyway.

He had to admit, the Great Hall had looked even better than it normally did. And the sea of color at a feast was a nice change.

Then again, he really hadn't looked at much of it after Hermione had come down the stairs.

He knew Angelina had noticed when his jaw had hit the floor as Hermione appeared on the marble stairs. There was no way she hadn't. Hermione had looked incredible and it was probably a big reason Angelina had taken to hanging around George.

Confronting Hermione about going to the Yule Ball with Krum hadn't been tactful on his brother's part, but he couldn't say he disagreed. Not as far as Harry was concerned, but as far as her going with Krum in general. He was more than a little jealous.

Really, if he could have gotten in a jinx or two, he'd have taken the opportunity.

Fred was nearing the point of giving up on finding her when he heard soft sobs coming from an empty classroom on the fifth floor. He quietly opened the door, pushing it open a crack to peek inside. Sure enough, Hermione sat on the windowsill, leaned against the thick wall along the edge of the window, her frame silhouetted by the bright moon and fairy lights.

Even crying, Fred couldn't help but notice how pretty she looked.

He took a careful step through the threshold and she looked up with a jump, letting out a sigh and trying not to catch his eye as she said, "Oh, Fred. It's you. Y-you scared me."

Her voice was soft and it was clear she was trying to hide her hurt.

He gave her a gentle smile. "Just me. The party was getting boring so I, uh, figured I'd see if you were okay."

She returned his smile with a twitch of the corner of her mouth. "Thanks. I'm okay, r-really." Hermione wasn't fooling him.

"I don't think you are," he said, stepping closer. He longed to hold her, to pull her close and let her cry. "I think you're hurt and my brother is a git." He closed the space between him and her perch and she looked up at him, her eyelashes sparkling with tears.

"N-no, r-really, I'm - I'm -" She let her arms flop to her sides and shook her head. "I'm a mess," she concluded.

"May I?" Fred asked, motioning to the space next to her. She nodded. "I think," he said, taking a seat, "that you need a good cry and possibly a voodoo doll."

Hermione looked up at him, mildly shocked, "I couldn't use -"

"I know, Hermione. I know."

A beat later, she burst into tears.

"I-I can't believe he - he said th-that!" she wailed, throwing her arms around Fred's neck and sobbing into his shoulder. Fred would have given anything to have her arms around him in any other situation. "How c-could he th-think I want H-Harry to lose? He- he's one of m-my b-best friends!"

She was nearly in his lap now. Fred threw caution to the wind and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "I don't know if you've noticed in the years of being his friend, Hermione," Fred said, running his hand over her back, trying to help her calm down, "but my brother is a tactless imbecile."

Hermione let out a combination of a laugh and sob and looked up at Fred, mascara lining her cheeks with black.

"He's just so...so..."

"Stupid," Fred finished. Before he could stop himself, he added, "He doesn't appreciate what's right in fr- " He quickly stopped himself and realized in the same instance he was still rubbing her back and forced his hand to a halt.

"Right in what?" Hermione asked quietly, hiccuping and holding back a soft sob as she finished the sentence.

"Nothing," Fred said, kicking himself for saying it in the first place. She had Krum. She wasn't available. He couldn't.

Hermione looked up at him from under her eyelashes. "Are y-you sure?" she asked, a little sob still escaping.

"Yeah," Fred said, gulping down the lump in his throat. "Yeah, it's...it's nothing. He's just so stupid." He steeled himself, choosing his words before saying, "If, you know, you ever want to, uh, to talk, you can...I mean, I'm...I'm here."

Hermione smiled and pulled her arms off his shoulders, wiping her cheeks with the back of her thumbs. "Thanks, Fred," she said, her voice soft. "And...thank you for checking on me." She stood up before he could say anything and added, "I really appreciate it."

"That's what I'm here for," Fred replied, trying to mask his disappointment that she was leaving. She looked like she was about to say something, but thought better of it.

"Have a good night, Fred," said said, giving him a little wave before leaving the room.

Fred could still feel her in his arms as he whispered, "Fucking Bulgarians."


	6. First Morning

**_Your thing says to give you a scenario, so can you maybe do one where it's Fred and Hermione waking up the first morning after they've moved in together. -sibunakittykate_**

Hermione opened one eye, then the other and blinked quickly, trying to adjust to the light pouring through the window. It took her a minute to adjust to her surroundings. The walls were a cheery yellow, not lilac. The window faced east, not west - which explained the bright awakening. And she was _hot._

Why was it so hot?

And that's when she realized that she was trapped in a tangle of sheets, blankets and long, freckled limbs.

Fred was basically suffocating her.

She certainly loved him and didn't want to wake him up - or leave his arms (and a leg) - really, but Merlin's beard, she was about to combust.

Slowly, but surely, she pulled out and arm, then a leg, then her other arm. She was nearly free when Fred's eyes popped open. He looked at her for a moment before grabbing her back into his arms and pulling her close into his chest.

Well, she was free of the blankets anyway.

"Morning, sleepy head," she said, turning her head slightly to peck his nose with her lips.

Fred let out a contented purr and buried his face in Hermione's neck.

Hermione resigned herself to herself to continuing to bake in the heat of the new apartment. Fred and George had been living above the shop, but with Hermione finishing Hogwarts, Fred had decided it was time to spread his wings. Ron had taken the empty room in George's apartment, Harry was living in Holyhead with Ginny (and apparating to work at the Ministry), and Fred and Hermione had rented the flat in the next building over from George and Ron.

A voice near her ear was mumbling, but she couldn't tell what Fred was saying.

"Hmm?"

Suddenly, Fred was kissing her neck and she was melting into him. His fingertips trailed up her arm and his hand landed on her cheek, holding her close. She let out a small moan.

"Fred?" she asked, trying to focus, trying to not give in immediately.

"Mmm?" he returned, his lips moving to her jawline.

"I love you," she said quietly.

He stopped and raised his head, looking at her, his eyes drinking her in. "I love you to the moon and back," he replied before asking, "Do you have to go into the office today?"

Hermione shook her head. "Off until Monday," she said, a playful smile on her lips.

"Good. I told George I was on holiday until Tuesday," he replied before rolling on top of her as she giggled with delight.


	7. Announcements and Beginnings

In the aftermath, Hermione regretted the horrible things she'd called Fred.

It had been months earlier when she'd first come home, glowing. She'd suggested that she and Fred go for a bit of late shopping after dinner and he agreed.

"Let's go in Quality Quidditch Supplies," she'd said, telling Fred she wanted to see if they were selling anything with Ginny's name on it. After all, it wasn't everyone who could say their sister-in-law was a famous quidditch star.

As they walked around, Hermione stopped along the broom wall and took in the stock. The newest Nimbus, a new Firebolt, what seemed like the millionth of the Cleansweeps…

And then she pointed to a small, toy broom.

"That looks like the broom Harry bought for James," Hermione said, hardly able to keep herself calm. "Look how cute it is."

"I think you're a little big for it, Hermione," Fred teased, kissing the top of her head.

Hermione elbowed him. "Well it seems like the best way to learn!" she replied, rolling her eyes.

Fred pointed out the newest Cleansweep and said, "I don't know. I think that one might be your best bet."

She shook her head, exasperation crossing her face. "I meant for a _tiny_ human, Fred, not a full-sized one!"

He pulled it down, eyeing it up. With George's baby on the way, it wouldn't be a bad gift. It hovered maybe two feet above the ground. The handle gleamed in the evening sun shining through the windows. All in all, toy brooms had come a long way from the ones he'd ridden with his siblings as a kid.

"Actually, this is a pretty nice broom," Fred said, turning the handle over in his hand.

"We should get one," Hermione said, looking at Fred with sparking eyes. He looked over at her and smiled.

"George would love it," he agreed, bending over to look at the price.

"I…wasn't talking about for George," Hermione said, quietly.

Fred looked at her, examining her face, taking her in. The way her eyes were gleaming. The way the corners of her mouth twitched in her smile. The rosiness of her cheeks. She was radiant. She was glowing. She was…

"Oh my God," Fred said, quietly, before erupting, "Oh my God, Hermione, you're joking!"

Hermione shook her head and Fred dropped the broom, sending it clattering to the ground, and grabbed Hermione in his arms and spinning her in a circle. "You're kidding! A baby? Really? Us?" he asked, his face flushed, a wide smile on his face.

He'd been wonderful. He'd run to Florean's for ice cream whenever she'd even so much as looked like she might want something sweet. He'd cleaned. He'd taken care of everything.

So when she'd told him to go to hell and never touch her again - among even worse things including what she would do to him if he did - during the wee hours of November 13, she really did feel guilty.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to him as he lay in the bed next to her at St. Mungo's, the tiny bundle of blankets asleep in her arms. The room had been bursting with red hair, other children and her own, slightly-harassed-looking-but-happy parents only an hour before. Much to Hermione's relief, the Healers had sent them all out to give her and Fred some time to breathe.

Fred kissed her head and smoothed her hair back. "I went temporarily deaf, Hermione, and I have no idea what you said," he replied, reaching out to gently tug on her earlobe.

Hermione glanced over at him and bit back her joke about doing the dishes or, more specifically, the lack thereof.

"I love you," he whispered, and adjusted himself to press a kiss to her lips. He could see her eyelids growing heavy.

She looked up at him through her eyelashes and smiled, "I love you more," Hermione said, before looking down at the sleeping baby. "And I love you, too, Gideon Arthur."

Fred beamed and pulled them both as close as he could.

"Love you most."


	8. Ears

_**omg so what if in ootp when the twins have their extendable ear and hermione is leaning against the banister and theres very little room on where theyre standing so fred has to squeeze behind her so his front is to her back and DO U GET WHERE IM GOING WITH THIS DONT YOU PLS**_

Hermione hadn't been thrilled about the idea of Fred and his twin eavesdropping on the Order.

" _What if you're caught?"_

 _"What would your mother do?"_

 _"We really shouldn't - it's all highly classified."_

But in the end, Fred knew how to change her tune.

"Hermione," he said, leading her to the opportune landing in Number 12 Grimmauld Place, "don't you want to know what's going on? It's bound to be loads of really interesting, really advanced intelligence and information, isn't it?" His eyes sparkled with mischief as they walked down the final set of stairs to meet up with George.

"I don't know, Fred," Hermione said slowly, clearly losing her nerve to back down. Fred could see the conflict in her eyes. On the one hand, she didn't want to get into trouble. Prefects hadn't been named yet and Dumbledore was in charge of the Order. On the other...it would be fascinating...

"Come on," Fred urged, motioning her to take the spot next to George. "It's bound to be a wealth of learning. We can see how they're fighting. Maybe even hear more about the last time..."

Hermione turned around to face him, her back now to George's side. "I mean...it _would_ be fascinating..."

George gave her back a nudge with his elbow. "Plenty of history there you won't hear from old Binns." George gave Fred a grin from over the top of Hermione's head.

Hermione forced a sigh of resignation and held out her hand to Fred, who had just pulled out three, peachy colored strings from his pocket. "Okay, okay, I'm in."

Fred smiled widely and handed her one of the Extendable Ears. "You won't regret this, Hermione. It should be a good show," Fred said as he handed and Ear to George.

He started to take a step down onto the landed from the stair he had been towering over the other two on, but realized quickly that there wasn't much space to be had. He could stay on the stair, but the angle was too sharp for him to get a prime spot for his Ear. He could go up a flight, but he wanted to be next to George and Hermione to be able to whisper conspiracy theories in the ears attached to their heads.

That left one spot for him.

Fred took a gentle step down to avoid knocking the others over and began to wedge himself behind Hermione.

"Sorry," he mumbled as Hermione turned to look at him. He could feel his ears pinkening, threatening to betray him. Hermione simply smiled at him and leaned forward on the bannister, trying to give him some space.

All she had managed to do was push her back directly into his front.

Fred took in a gulp of air and quickly swallowed the lump in his throat. The Extendable Ear stayed in his grip, forgotten, as he tried to align himself so that she wasn't pressing _right into him_. Fred knew it was only a matter of time before he was very obviously betrayed.

She must have felt him squirming, knew his plight, because a second later she jumped a bit and turned to face him, looking embarrassed. "Sorry!" she whispered as she stood up straighter.

There still wasn't much room.

Fred was still standing right against her, but at least now she wasn't pushing _right into him._ But there was still the proximity...

All Fred could imagine doing was wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her against him. He imagined if George wasn't there, resting his chin on the top of her head while he held her close, eavesdropping before they went to go discuss theories on what they heard.

...Or not.

Or he would just find somewhere they could be alone, somewhere he could wrap her in his arms and tell her that all he wanted to do was kiss her and was that okay - and if it was, to do exactly that.

Instead, he was standing there with her very clearly pushed into him, intently listening to whatever she was hearing down below and he was trying to control himself. He felt like his body was on fire wherever they were touching, his stomach doing somersaults, his brain buzzing.

She was beautiful. He'd known it, subconsciously, for ages, but when she'd walked down the stairs at the Yule Ball, it had hit him like a bag of galleons.

Now here she was and he was wedged between her and a wall and he couldn't think straight.

Suddenly George gave his Ear and tug and turned to the others.

"Be back. Too much pumpkin juice," he explained, trotting off down the stairs. Fred heard a door close two floors down. The washroom.

Hermione turned her head to look at Fred and smiled. "You were right, you know. These are brilliant. You two are brilliant," her eyes were lit up with the look Fred had seen her take on whenever she read something particularly interesting in a library book.

"Thanks, Hermione," he said, smiling back. "I knew you'd like it."

That was when she leaned back.

There was nothing accidental about it. She had been standing straight and tall and then she wasn't. She was leaning into him, pressing against him and he couldn't stop himself as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her a bit closer. She let out a quiet hum of contentment and closed her eyes. He wondered if she was still listening in. He felt her arms move and suddenly she had crossed her own arms her hands covering his.

His brain was buzzing with excitement.

Slowly, Fred pressed a kiss to the top of her head and she sighed. He took that as a clue and, before he lost his nerve, lowered his head enough to kiss her cheek.

"Go, go, go!" George hissed, yanking the Ear up, the string springing to his hand. Hermione was stuffing hers into her back pocket, brushing Fred's leg in the process, and he stood there, completely bewildered, realizing that George had, in fact, never gone to the washroom and Hermione had never shown him an ounce of returned affection.

"Fred, _go!"_ Hermione urged, grabbing at his arm as she turned to bolt up the stairs back toward the bedroom she was sharing with Ginny. "We have to _move!"_

 _"_ Who's up there?" Molly called up the stairs.

Fred bolted, running up the stairs behind George as quickly and quietly as he could, looking up just in time to see Hermione's hair whip behind a quickly closing door.

"Forget it," George said, grabbing Fred's arm and turning quickly on the spot, snapping them to their shared bedroom. George collapsed on the bed, looking shaken.

Fred, on the other hand, grabbed a towel and a pair of fresh underwear.

"Where the hell are you going?" George asked, still catching his breath.

Fred sighed. "To take a very long shower."


	9. Royalty (au)

_**this is sorta odd but it's an au where Hermione is royalty and her parents hold an event for potential suitors for Hermione to meet. But instead of mingling with the princes and rich boys at the party, Hermione takes a liking to one of the waiters who was hired (that specific waiter being Fred).**_

She tugged at the sleeves on the periwinkle gown, trying to make the lace lay the way she liked. Hermione loved the gown, but she hated the occasion. Once again, her parents were pressuring her to find a suitor they saw fit and once again, she resisted. Elizabeth I had made it work. Why couldn't she?

Instead, she was being shoved into an incredibly uncomfortable evening of ulterior motives and social climbers. She wasn't naive enough to believe that any of the men who were attending that evening were even close to being interested in her. They were there for the crown and the power, not her. She hadn't been born into a world that afforded her the luxury of marrying for love. Hermione would have given up every gown, every pair of shoes and every precious stone in the box on her vanity for that chance.

"You look beautiful, Your Highness," said Abigail, the handmaid that was finishing her hair. Curls cascaded around Hermione's shoulders, the top half of her hair twisted into an elegant bun that had been wrapped with periwinkle silk ribbon.

Hermione smiled sadly into the mirror and let out a slight sigh. "Thank you, Abigail," she answered, resigning herself to the night. At any rate, there would be wine and champagne and dancing. Those things she did enjoy.  
Downstairs, she was stopped by the herald before she could sneak to the kitchens.

"Ah, Your Highness," he said, smiling. "Your guests have been waiting." He opened the doors, revealing a grand staircase spiraling out into a large ballroom full of people. "May I present Her Royal Highness, Princess Hermione."

She could feel her cheeks burning as the room bowed and curtsied as she made her way slowly down the stairs as she had been taught. She hoped no one could tell that in all actuality, she wanted to run back to her room screaming and lock the door.

"Come, come!" her father cooed at her, motioning her forward at the bottom of the stairway. "There are so many people for you to greet. This way."

He led her through the crowd, stopping at various families, introducing his daughter. Hermione was exhausted and it had only been twenty minutes at most. She would have done anything for a cup of mulled wine to distract her.

Hollands and Beauforts, Greys and Carews. Walpoles and Monthermers and Willoughbys. The introductions went on and on, each feeling more false than the last. The Brewers in particular felt as though they were hungrily staring right through her, eager to see what they could get from her.

Finally, she excused herself for a glass of wine.

Instead of finding one of the long tables, she found a small alcove and leaned back against the wall before taking a deep breath. This was miserable. Her whole life, she had been reminded of how lucky she was to have been born into royalty. Now, she thought of it as a curse.

She jumped at footsteps coming from the stairs below and was unable to move out of the way before a tall, freckled servant she had never seen before emerged from the kitchens with more wine.

"Pardon me, Your Highness," he stuttered, grabbing at the silver pitcher he had nearly spilled all over Hermione. "I-I'm so sorry. I didn't think anyone…especially you…forgive me. I'm sorry."

Hermione waved her hand, heat rising to her face in embarrassment. "Please, don't be sorry," she said quickly. "It was an accident, you didn't know. I shouldn't have been blocking the stairs. It's- "

But what it was, he wasn't about to find out because Hermione jumped and hurried past him down the stairs enough to avoid her mother walking toward her hiding place.

"Hermione, where in the world have you gotten to? You have guests, a responsibility-" she was murmuring, clearly angry with her daughter. "I'd have never believed such rudeness from my daughter…"

Hermione looked at the newcomer and waved frantically for him to stay quiet. He took a few steps backwards, letting himself melt back towards the kitchen, and Hermione.

When her mother's footsteps fell away, she sighed again. "Thank you," she said, sincerely. "Thank you for not saying anything. I wish I could just run away from all of this."

"With all due respect," he said slowly, "if I were in your shoes-"

"You'd be stuck in the same situation I am," Hermione finished impatiently. She was tired of people telling her how lucky she was. How was it lucky to be forced into a marriage with someone who only wanted power and not you?

"I would be hiding just like you are," he said quietly.

Hermione smiled. He was the first person who hadn't told her how she should be grateful.

"Who are you?" Hermione asked slowly.

"The name's Fred," he said, quickly adding, "Your Highness."

She waved her hand impatiently. "Please, don't do that," she said. "If I could give that up, I would in a heartbeat."

"Why's that?" Fred asked curiously.

"Never knowing someone's intentions. Never knowing if someone likes me or my title," she said slowly, chewing over words in her head before saying them aloud. "It's incredibly lonely, being told who's good enough for you."

"It sounds like it," he said, nodding.

Hermione couldn't help but notice the way his brown eyes seemed to sparkle with flecks of gold or the way the candlelight in the corridor caught his ginger hair. He was taller than she was by a head and a half and she couldn't help but wonder if his freckles were only peppering his cheeks.

"How have I never seen you before, Fred?" she asked, curious as to how he had avoided her notice before.

He smiled nervously. "I started about two weeks ago, You-," he stopped himself and added, "I'm sorry."

She smiled at him. "I'm glad you did." Hermione had to stop herself before she got into trouble. "Where did you work before now?"

Fred smiled, more confidently this time. "I worked for the Greys," he said. "But, uh, they found out I put ink into their son's tea."

Hermione imaged the look on the oldest Grey boy's face as he realized his perfect teeth had been stained black and found herself laughing with glee. She never had liked him. He was arrogant, cruel, and seemed to think he could win her over by hunting or being rude to members of the court.

"How did you end up here?" she asked, still recovering from her giggling fit that had caused Fred to laugh, too.

"My brother, William," said Fred with a smile, all trace of nerves gone.

"My father's cup-bearer?" she asked.

"One in the same," Fred answered.

Before Hermione could say another word, her mother's voice echoed down the corridor, footsteps coming near them. "Hermione Elizabeth Jean, never in my life would I imagine to find you hiding at your own ball," she hissed. "You get upstairs this instant. You're far too old for these games."

Fred's face was chalk white, but Hermione smiled at him. "I'm glad to have met you, Fred," she said quickly. "We'll talk soon, I know it."

 _I'll make sure of it._

She set off towards her mother's voice, ready to dance the same dances and hold the same boring small talk over family names and aristocracy. At least now she had the hope of a friend…or, maybe more.


	10. Amortentia

_**omg love you writing, your so awesome! could you do one about that love potion in hbp thatd be awesomer**_

Small explosions were nothing out of the ordinary at the Weasley home, especially when Fred and George were around. When they had still been at The Burrow full-time, Mrs. Weasley had found herself irritated with the noise until she had just learned to block it out. But now that the twins were back to visit, she was glad to hear the pops and bangs of invention. She'd missed her sons, truth be told, and they could all use a laugh now that the truth was out.

George opened the door a crack when he heard squealing from downstairs. "Wassat?" he murmured, looking up and down the stairs. Shrugging, he closed the door again. Nothing out of the ordinary there. Ginny had probably tripped over something.

"See anything?" Fred asked, looking up from a cauldron he was stirring. A golden glow lit his face from the depths of the cauldron, sending faint glittering light around the room that was already glowing different colors.

"Nope," George replied, plunking himself down in front of a bottling station. "That about ready?"

Fred took a deep smell and nodded. To him, the potion smelled of parchment, the Hogwarts library, and something sweet and floral. He scooped up a small ladle and handed it to George. "Take a whiff, Georgie," Fred said with a grin.

George inhaled deeply and smiled. "Oh yeah, that's ready." He picked up a bottle, inserted a funnel, and poured the liquid inside. Once it was settled, he added a cap with a spray nozzle attached.

"Perfect," he said, handing the bottle to Fred. "Give it a go."

Fred took the bottle and turned it over, making sure it looked just right, before aiming and spritzing himself with the potion.

"Anything?" Fred asked. They had tweaked the Amortentia potion slightly, allowing a more controlled effect.

George took a whiff and shook his head. "Nope, you smell just like you usually do."

"Brilliant." Fred capped the bottle and set it aside, letting out a contented sigh. "Once we get these bottles filled, we'll be all set for the orders to come rolling in. Can you imagine it? Targeted Amortentia cologne and perfume."

"And to think," George said, putting a lid on the cauldron and taking it off the portable flames. "Mum thought we wouldn't amount to anything because we quit before out N.E.W.T.S."

Fred laughed and set the bottle of cologne on his dresser. "I'll be back. I'm going to grab some pumpkin juice."

He stood up, stretched his limbs, and opened the door to step out onto the hallway. As he latched the door, he was knocked against the wall by a very quickly moving figure with bushy brown hair.

"Oh! Fred, I'm so sorry!"

Fred caught himself and straightened up to look at the windswept figure of Hermione Granger looking up apologetically at him.

He suddenly hated that he'd sprayed himself instead of making George. The last thing he wanted to know was what Hermione was attracted to.

...Unless it was him.

But who was he kidding?

"You nearly killed me, Hermione!" he cried dramatically, throwing his arm up and resting the back of his hand on his forehead. "Oh, to be struck down so young. Whatever would my poor mother have done?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and chuckled before dropping her bag and throwing her arms around Fred, hugging him. Fred felt warmth spread throughout his body from where she was touching him and when she pulled away, he wished he'd have held her against him.

"How are you? How's the shop? Ginny told me things have really taken off," said Hermione with a smile.

Fred nodded. "Thing are good, really good. We're winding down the mail orders, but they're still coming in like mad. Poor Mum's not far from a meltdown about the owls, I'm sure. They're in and out all the time." He straightened up and said in a shrill imitation of Molly Weasley, "This isn't an owlery, it's a kitchen, and I'll ask you to kindly remember that!"

Hermione laughed again and covered her mouth with a small hand. Fred couldn't handle how cute she looked when she laughed. It was even better when he was the one making her laugh.

"What about you?" Fred asked, nonchalantly leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. "How's your summer?"

Hermione smiled. "Not bad, rather boring until now, to be honest. I've been so worried about my O.W.L.S. and I've had no way to distract myself," she said, sighing a bit. "Mum and Dad...well..." she bit her lip. "They know they're big exams of course, but they don't really understand _how_ big they are."

Fred smiled and said, "Don't forget, Hermione, Mum about murdered George and I for only scraping a few O.W.L.S. Now look at us!"

At that moment, a bang emitted from the room behind Fred and he heard George swear loudly. Hermione looked curiously at the door.

"What are you working on in there?" she asked cautiously, almost as though she were afraid of the answer.

Fred shrugged. "Ah, you know, just some, uh, potions."

Hermione smiled. "What kind of potions? Oh, I'd love to see."

He shook his head. "No can do, Hermione," he said, throwing his mischievous smile back on. "Top secret those are. They're prototypes after all!"

Rolling her eyes, she threw her hands up. "Okay, okay, I get it," she said before stopping to look at him. "Are you wearing more cologne than you usually do?"

He was caught now. This was the last conversation he wanted to have. What if she smelled one of his brothers? Or worse - a Slytherin? Fred took a gulp of air and said, "Ah, yeah, something new I'm trying," he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Hermione looked at him skeptically. "Really? It doesn't smell new. It smells the same way you always smell, just stronger." She smiled at him and pulled the bag back onto her shoulder as Ginny came up the stairs.

Fred's brain began to buzz. _"It smells the same way you always smell, just stronger."_ Fred was wearing Amortentia. He knew they'd brewed it correctly. He needed to test it.

"Oh, hey, Ginny, can we borrow you for a second?" Fred asked as his sister reached the landing.

Ginny looked at him skeptically. "If you think I'm eating one more bizarre thing you two come up with..."

"No, no," Fred said quickly. "Nothing like that." He looked up at Hermione and waved her off. "Sorry, Hermione, Weasley Family secret." He grabbed the youngest Weasley's arm and yanked her into the bedroom, closing the door behind them.

"What the hell is your problem?" Ginny asked irritably. "I wanted to help her get settled."

"She's been here before," said Fred, "she knows where to go. Ginny," he added, standing right in front of her, inches away. "I need you to take a really good whiff of me and see what you smell."

"Is this some kind of joke?" Ginny asked, crossing her arms.

"No, I promise," Fred responded.

Ginny rolled her eyes, but obliged her brother's request and took a deep breath as he leaned in. She pondered for a minute. "What are you wearing?" she asked quietly.

Fred shook his head. "What do you smell?"

She narrowed her eyes at him and answered, "Pumpkin juice, broom polish and...something else," she trailed off, her ears pink.

"But did it smell like me?" Fred asked eagerly.

"Are you off your rocket?" Ginny asked, horrified. "Wouldn't you know?"

"Yeah, yeah, I would. You're right, thanks Ginny," Fred said, distractedly pushing Ginny out the bedroom door.

"Hey, wait we're not do-" but Fred slammed the door in her face and locked it.

George looked up. "What was that all about?" he asked, shoving a stopped into a bottle. He watched his twin with interest.

Fred didn't answer. Hermione smelled him while he was wearing the most powerful love potion known to wizards and said he smelled the same way he always had.

Hermione's Amortentia smelled like him.

He threw himself back on his bed, a grin encompassing his face while he let out a victorious sigh of "Yes."


	11. A Christmas Carol

_**If you're still taking requests, can you do one where Fred gets home from the shop, or just being out, and finds Hermione in his Christmas Weasley sweater (with is a few sizes to big for her) reading a book. Thx :)**_  
 _ **-sibunakittykate**_

A light snow was falling, sticking to the cobblestones and the signs and the cloaks and hair of passersby. Fred watched through the shop window, the sign long since turned to "closed." A flurry of procrastinating Christmas shoppers had descended on the shop, cutting things close. It was only the December 20 and he knew the crowds would only grow thicker, but he - for once - had his shopping done ages ago.

He looked down at the ledger he was balancing and finished comparing numbers before closing the book for the night and putting away his ink and quill. He still wasn't sure how it had been three years since he and George had opened the shop. Business had only gotten better and better as time went on and even Molly had finally broken down and given them both a tearful expression of how proud she was of her twin sons.

Fred stood up from the counter and stretched before putting out the lights and grabbing his own cloak to step out into the snow. He locked the door behind him and ambled down the snow-covered cobblestones towards his flat. Hermione had mentioned having a busy day at the ministry and that she wasn't sure if she would be home for dinner. He could always stop 'round George's to pick him up for dinner at the Leaky Cauldron.

He could hear Christmas carols coming from somewhere, gently magnified magically for atmosphere aimed at the shoppers heading home. In his head, he could still hear Sirius Black singing "God Rest You Merry Hippogriffs" at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. That felt like two lifetimes ago now.

It wasn't long before Fred found himself at his front door and slid the key into the lock, the metal scraping against metal. He smiled as he opened the door to smell baking potatoes and beef and saw the warm glow of the lights. Hermione had made it home after all.

"I'm home!" he called, shaking the snow from his hair and brushing it off his cloak as he kicked off his boots and closed the door. The warmth of the flat enveloped him after the chill of winter outside.

"In here," she called back, distractedly. Fred could already tell she was probably reading.

He walked through the doorway into the living room and smiled as the image before him punched him in the chest with emotion. Hermione had twisted her hair into a messy bun that sat near the top of her head. She was curled into a ball on the couch, resting a book on the arm of the squishy sofa. Her soft wool socks were pulled up, slightly bunched around her knees and the rest of her legs were bare except for what was covered by Fred's too-large-for-her Christmas sweater from the year before. She'd pushed up the sleeves to free her hands, and the neck was wide enough to leave space around her own bare.

Fred gulped.

He crossed the room and, restraining himself, bent down to kiss her chastely before sitting cross-legged on the couch next to her. "What are you reading?" he asked, tilting his head to look at the cover.

Hermione looked up and smiled, holding up the book. "It's 'A Christmas Carol,'" she said, smiling. "It's a Muggle classic and it's one of my favorites."

"What's it about?" Fred asked, curiously. "Sounds like a bunch of people trying to pick a song."

She laughed and shook her head. "That's absolutely what it's about," she said.

Fred smiled broadly and crossed his arms behind his head, leaning back. "I knew it. See, Hermione, and you never thought I was smart enough for you. Now I'm even right in on the Muggle thing."

Hermione nodded and hummed a sarcastic, _mhmm._ "I'm starting to feel inferior, really. It's upsetting." She laughed and said, "It's funny. I always thought I was actually reading a book about a miser who's visited by three ghosts to get him to turn his life around on Christmas Eve, but you're definitely right. It's just a book of Christmas carols."

"God rest you merry hippogriffs," Fred started to sing before he was stopped abruptly by Hermione crawling over and sliding herself tightly against his side. He let out a contented sigh and brought his arms down from behind his head to pull her closer until she was sitting on his lap.

In retrospect, it hadn't been his most brilliant move. If he'd had a hard time thinking straight before...

He tried to distract himself. "You're making dinner?" he asked innocently.

Hermione smirked. "It's done. I turned off the oven right before you walked in." Fred didn't have time to react. Hermione had leaned down and pressed her lips to his with such ferocity that it took his breath away. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, as close as she could be, until they were pressed together on the couch.

His lips traveled to her neck and he heard her let out a sigh, encouraging him to continue. A tugging below his belt reminded him of what he'd been trying to ignore and Hermione pulled away to smirk at him.

"We can always reheat dinner."


	12. The End - Hermione

_**Hi! I love your writing. :-) Could you write an AU where it was Hermione who died at the Battle, and Fred's reaction to it?**_  
 _ **\- a-dreadful-penny**_

"Hermione!" Fred coughed, trying to clear his lungs of the thick, dark smoke he was inhaling as he ran down the corridor after her. "Hermione, wait! Wait for me!"

Flashes of light illuminated the sky, only visible as what looked like colored lightning flashes. Green, then red, then purple, more green, white, more green. Another cough shook his body as he ran. Ron and Harry had gone to the Room of Requirement and now Fred was afraid he was about to lose Hermione in the confusion. He had sworn he would stay with her. He could still hear Percy and George running behind him.

An ear-piercing shriek sounded up ahead and Fred's blood ran cold. Blood rushed to his brain and he tried to shake off the haze, screaming, "Hermione!" before taking off at a dead sprint.

"Fred! Wait!" he could hear his brothers yell, but there was no stopping. He wouldn't stop running until he found her.

The smoke thinned near a large window and it was there he saw her - Hermione was laying on the cold stone floor, her limbs spread around her, blood beginning to pool around her body. Fred's brain was filled with nothing more than a buzz. Black spots were starting to cloud his vision. She wasn't. She couldn't be.

What had he done? He'd promised to protect her. He'd promised she'd see the next day - both of them, together - and they would start to plan their wedding as soon as it was over. He'd promised she'd live long enough to regret ever going for a butterbeer with him, let along agreeing to have his kids. He'd promised. He'd promised they'd be okay.

He'd promised.

This couldn't be happening.

And then he saw it - a black figure crawling low, aiming to stop right next to Hermione's body. It looked like a man, but it couldn't be. It was too...animal-like. Too much like...

Wolf.

It was him.

"AAAAAAAAGGGGHH!" Before he knew what he was doing, Fred was running, as fast as his legs would carry him, across the floor, barely avoiding the shattered pieces of stone in his path. His vision had gone red in fury and he felt as though his throat was about to split into a hundred pieces, ripped apart from the volume.

Fred launched himself at the surprised figure of Fenrir Greyback and landed with such force that both were thrown backward into the wall. Fred felt something in his torso crack, but he felt no pain. He lunged at Greyback's throat and wrapped his fingers around it, squeezing with all his might.

Greyback kicked at him and swiped with his long, sharp claws, catching Fred's arms. Fred continued to scream - pain, fury, and heartache all rolled into one.

"Fred!" George came barreling toward the pair rolling on the ground, throwing himself into the fray. He grabbed at Greyback's flailing arms, but jumped backward when the claws caught him in the face, ripping open skin.

Greyback was starting to turn blue and the effect only made Fred squeeze harder. No way would he let that monster defile Hermione. He wouldn't let him hurt her. He'd already scarred one brother. Another would have the same. He wouldn't let him hurt anyone else he loved.

The flailing of Greyback's arms was starting to slow when a cry of "Fred, look out!" came from further back the corridor. Fred jumped out of the way just as a rock came hurtling through the air, aimed right at Greyback's head.

Fred looked away just before the sickening crunch to see Percy stumbling toward him. George, who had taken off his shirt and was holding it to his face, stood up shakily.

"Fred..." he croaked, but Fred was already lightyears away. He looked down at Hermione's body and dropped to the ground, his body already shaking with sobs he didn't realize had begun. He crawled to her and pulled her body into his own until he was holding her.

"Hermione..." he moaned, his voice shaking. "Hermione...oh, God, Hermione...I'm so...I'm so s-sorry. This is all m-my fault," he wailed, his voice breaking, no longer able to control volume. Fred's entire body shook and his hand was barely able to push a piece of hair back from her face.

"Fred...Fred," Percy said, softly, dropping to his knees behind Fred, putting his hands on Fred's shoulders in an attempt to calm him.

But Fred didn't hear him. He was still apologizing to Hermione.

"I should have g-gone first," he wailed, pulling her closer. "I n-never should have let this h-happen. It s-should have b-been _me_."

"Fred," George bent down and looked at his twin, wishing he could take away the pain. "Fred, we'll take her downstairs. We'll take her to the Great Hall and we'll get her out of here."

Fred didn't hear it. He had already fainted.

Everything was black, but Fred could hear commotion around him. Sobs, running feet, comfort being passed around. That was when he opened his eyes.

He was laying on a cot in a corner of the Great Hall. It didn't take long to find his family - a gaggle of red hair was gathered a few rows down. He stood slowly, noticing a bandage wrapped around his chest, and realized he must have broken a rib.

But that was when the real pain came back, nearly knocking him over with its force.

Hermione was gone.

He could no longer feel his rib. He stood and ran across the room, George and Bill moving out of the way when the saw him coming. Fred dropped down to the floor to kneel beside her.

She had been cleaned up. She looked like she could just be sleeping.

But Fred knew better.

He looked down at her peaceful, beautiful face and felt a mixture of loss, pain, love and fury bubbling inside him - the first three for Hermione; the last one for everyone who could have been at fault...and he included himself.

"Is it over?" he asked his father quietly. Arthur shook his head. "You-Know-Who ordered a one-hour cease fire. He's looking for Harry."

Fred felt his resolve solidify. He bent over and pressed his lips to Hermione's forehead.

"I love you. I love you forever. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. This is all my fault," he whispered to her before he wrapped his fingers around his wand and murmured, "and I'm going to make it right."

Fred stood up, crossed the Great Hall, and walked into the ruins of the Entrance Hall before walking into the night.

He didn't know who had killed her, but he was going to make sure he returned the favor.


	13. Like Father Like Sons

_**I absolutely love, love your writing! 3 But anyways If you wanted to write about fred and hermione with children... idk**_

Hermione had long ago grown used to explosions following Fred and George Weasley around. She'd never admit it to Fred, but one of the most relaxing nights of her young life came when they'd finally finished the workshop attached to the shop. She hadn't slept that peacefully since she'd last slept at her parents' house.

So, really, she shouldn't have been surprised that a child bearing Fred's DNA had somehow managed to singlehandedly cause a crash, a splash and a yowling, spitting cat nearly simultaneously.

Then the crying started.

Hermione let out a long, exasperated sigh and set her quill down, pausing her work on the papers she was catching up on for the Ministry. "Chandler! Jack!" The sound of pattering feet running from the scene of the crime met her ears next, mixed in with the whimpering.

 _"Sabrina,"_ she sighed, standing up and heading towards her crying daughter. She wasn't sure what her sons had done, but she knew they were in on it. The twins were just like their father and uncle if she were honest.

The scene in the hallway was nothing short of what she'd grown to expect from her kids. Sabrina was sitting in a puddle on the floor, her fists clenched, face screwed up and tears streaming down her face. The table was knocked over, it's contents strewn across the floor, a vase of flowers Fred had brought home for Hermione's birthday shattered, its water spilled across the hall. The toy broom and small quaffle were laying on the floor, recently discarded.

And then there was the cat.

The poor black kitten was shivering in the wreckage, soaking wet and yowling, confused as to what had just happened around it. Hermione sighed. "If only you could talk..." she murmured and pulled out her wand, pointing it at the ball of fluff. A jet of warm air dried the kitten, who jumped and ran clumsily away.

Hermione bent down and picked up the soaking wet toddler and held her close. "Shhh...shhh...It's okay, 'Brina. It's okay. Mummy's here. Shhh..." She bounced her youngest on her hip as the whimpers turned to the occasional sob. A minute later, Sabrina was looking for the cat.

"Okay, okay," Hermione said bending to lower Sabrina to the floor. "Just a second."

"I'm home!" Fred called from the front hall. Hermione smiled. "Fred, find your sons!" she called, turning to point her wand at the mess. _"Tergeo,"_ she said, siphoning the water off the floor. _"Reparo."_ The vase repaired itself and Hermione walked over to upright the table and replace the vase and its flowers before adding, _"Aguamenti,"_ and refilling the water inside.

Then it was time for the boys.

Before she could turn around, Fred was there, hugging her. "Hi, I missed you," he said, shoving his face in her hair. "Write me a note for work tomorrow I want to stay home and play."

Hermione laughed, returning his hug. "You don't need to stay home to play, you play all day at your play dates with your brother, remember?"

Fred leaned down and whispered something that made Hermione shriek with giggles before playfully hitting his arm. "Yes, well, we can deal with that later."

"Oh, right. The boys," Fred said, leaning back to look at Hermione. "What did they do?"

"Well, I haven't quite pieced that together yet, but something tells me it involves Quidditch in the house again," Hermione said, tilting her head toward the discarded broom and quaffle.

"Ahh, right, that," said Fred, sheepishly. "Now's a bad time to admit I brought home bludgers then?"

At that exact moment, a different kind of explosion happened as the seven-year-olds came barrelling down the hallway shrieking, "Daddy! Daddy!" and flung themselves onto Fred's legs, knocking him against the wall.

"Whoa!" Fred yelled, catching himself before he did anymore damage to the hallway. "Someone's broken into the sugar quills," Fred said with a laugh and uprighted himself, squeezing his boys in return. Hermione stood to the side, smiling at the scene in front of her.

"Daddy, you'll never believe -"

"I scored _twice_ , Dad!"

"-and then I made this save and-"

"He did not, I got it past him!"

"-really, Dad, I went like _this_ and-"

"Whoa, whoa, one at a time!" Fred laughed, looking up at Hermione who was trying not to look too amused at the twins. He cleared his throat and said, "Uh, it sounds like a great game, boys, but, uh, didn't your mum say something about Quidditch in the house?"

Chandler rolled his eyes. "But, _Dad,_ we were really careful!"

"Yeah, Dad, everything was fine until _Sabrina_ tried to knock me off the broom!" Jack added.

"Right, well, uh," Fred continued as Hermione turned quickly and headed out of the room to follow the fresh sobs coming from her three-year-old. The kitten had come tumbling out through the hall and Hermione had a pretty good idea of what had happened - and it probably involved a pulled tail and some kitten claws.

Fred lowered his voice and pulled the bag from Quality Quidditch Supplies from behind his back, offering it to the boys. They scrambled to open it and tried not to shriek with glee at the tiny bludger and bats inside. "Lets just play Quidditch inside when Mummy's out, okay?"

The sound of "thank yous" and "we promise" was drowned out by a yell from the nursery:

" _Why is Sabrina's teddy black with eight legs and loads of eyes?"_

The twins grinned and said, "We'll go play outside!" The door closed quickly behind them.

Fred groaned. Like father (and uncle), like sons.


	14. A Big Baby

_**Hi i was just wondering if you do a fluff fremione like of one of them sick and the other cares for that other one please please**_  
 _ **-puckleberryfan09**_  
 _ **Hermione or fred take care one or the other when one of them sick.**_  
 _ **-anon**_

"Fred's an absolute baby," Molly's head said from the fireplace, clicking her tongue in disapproval. "I really should have warned you," she added to Hermione, who was stirring honey into a mug of tea.

"I feel awful for him," Hermione said, setting the spoon down and turning away to pick up another mug. "I made up some more Pepperup Potion for him to take. His ears have finally stopped spouting steam."

Molly shook her head. "I can't put that together," she said thoughtfully, choosing her words. "It should have worked by now."

"I've never made it before," Hermione said, pouring the deep-red potion into the mug. "It could have just been human error."

Her soon-to-be mother-in-law gave her a pointed look. "You know as well as I do that you made that potion perfectly, Hermione," she said. "Maybe a cold isn't the problem..."

Hermione sighed. "Whatever it is, it's causing a lot of moaning." She gave Molly a halfhearted smile. "I should probably go give him this."

"Let me know how he's feeling, dear," Molly said. "I can always come out there if you need me to."

At this, Hermione's smile widened. "I will. You'll have to do that anyway, though. We have some shopping to do, I think."

Molly's eyes brightened. "We'll talk weddings soon," she said, before adding, "Oh, and remind my son that he's not six years old!"

Hermione laughed as Molly's head disappeared from the fire and headed back to the bedroom where Fred was in bed, covers pulled around him, pillows stacked under him.

Only he wasn't alone.

George had taken a seat at Fred's bedside.

"It's okay, Freddie," he said lowly, keeping his voice to a murmur. "We're all here for you. Well, except for Charlie because he's got his dragons...and Percy's at work. Bill's on holiday with Fleur...Ron's off with Harry and Ginny probably...Okay, well I'm here. Oh!" he added. "And your finacee. She stuck around. Merlin knows why."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Dare I ask?" she questioned at a very normal decibel, setting her tea on a dresser and carrying the Pepperup to Fred.

"Just assuring him that all's well," said George, patting Fred's hand. Fred moaned pitifully.

"Can you assure him from somewhere else so I can get that potion down his throat?" Hermione asked and instead of moving, George grabbed the mug.

"I can do it!" George declared. "I can't leave everything to you. Besides, a man should have his twin on their birthday." He turned and said to Fred, "Open up, now, there's a good lad..." He helped his brother drink down the potion before jumping out of the way of the steaming ears.

Hermione shook her head. She really should have known that when she agreed to marry Fred, she was also agreeing to George.

"That's well and good, George," she said, "But I'd also like my bedroom back."

George puffed out his chest in feigned irritation.

"Well I've never been so insulted in my life," he said, standing up and leaving the mug on the bedside table.

"Yes, yes, and you'll be back for more insults later," Hermione finished and George bent down to kiss the top of her head.

"See ya later, sis!" he said before disappearing with a pop.

Hermione shook her head and crawled onto the bed next to Fred, burrowing in until they were close. She wrapped an arm around his torso and he absently played with her hair without opening his eyes. "You're the best, 'Mione," Fred yawned, sliding further down into the bed.

Hermione peeked up over Fred's chest and replied, "Love you."

"Love you more."

"Love you most."

Fred opened one eye and gave Hermione a sheepish smile. "Hermione..."

"Mmm?" Hermione replied.

"...Is there any more soup?"


	15. Advice

_**Can you do Fred talking to one of his older brothers about a girl he fancies (Hermione) and the advice they give him etc etc, obviously George would be first choice but hes smart and he's more familiar with Hermione than the older ones, so he'd know it was her. Thanks love :)**_  
 _ **-anon**_

"Bill?"

Bill Weasley, laying comfortably on the couch in the living room of The Burrow, looked up from his book and gave his little brother a smile. "You alright, Freddie?" he asked, cocking his head a bit to the side.

Fred shrugged, giving his oldest brother a look of disinterest. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, trying to keep panic out of his tone. "What makes you think I'm not?" He grabbed the back of the chair facing Bill and leaned on it, trying to look collected.

Raising his eyebrows, Bill answered, "Because any other time you'd have come barrelling in here either jumping on me, throwing some new invention at me, or somehow otherwise causing mayhem." The corner of his mouth twitched before spreading into a smile. He'd always enjoyed the joking nature of his twin brothers. Someone had to keep things light.

A deep sigh exited Fred's mouth and he launched himself over the back of the chair and landed on the seat with a thud. "Okay, you've caught me," he said, letting his face fall. He'd never really thought he'd end up talking to Bill about things but...well..Here he was. "I need your advice," he added, sounding somewhat ashamed.

Bill closed the book and sat up, putting the book down on the coffee table as he moved. "What about George?" Bill asked, slightly confused. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to his little brother, but typically the twins kept things to themselves or their group of friends. It had been a long time since either of them had come to him.

The younger brother shook his head. "He knows too much," Fred said simply. "He's too close to the, ah, situation," he added, not looking at Bill, almost for fear of giving himself away.

Bill nodded. "Alright then," he said, leaning forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. "What's up?"

Fred took a deep breath and said, "You, ah, you obviously really like Fleur."

"Well, since I took a desk job, asked her out, and now she's here getting to know our family, yes, I'd say it's an accurate statement," Bill said warily, not sure where this already bizarre conversation was going.

"Right. That," Fred said, mentally kicking himself for how stupid he sounded. He fiddled with a string hanging off his t-shirt and added, "But how'd you do that?"

His older brother gave him a quizzical look. "What? Ask her out?"

"Yeah."

"Just did it," Bill said, leaning back against the back of the couch, crossing his arms behind his head. Fred couldn't help but be jealous of just how cool his brother was. "Walked up to her, told her she was beautiful and asked her to get some coffee."

Fred nodded. "Right. Of course." He was distracted now, wondering why he was so dumb to ask Bill. Granted, he couldn't have really asked Charlie - he loved dragons more than humans and Fred couldn't remember him ever having a girlfriend. George knew where this would lead. Percy...no. Absolutely not. And there was no way on this earth or any other that he would have asked Ron. No, it had to be Bill, as awkward as it was.

"What's this about, Fred?" Bill asked, raising an eyebrow. "You have your sights set? Did you finally find a pillow that would lay still long enough to - "

"Hey, listen, I was thirteen and it was dark and you lot - "

"I know, I know," Bill said, chuckling. "You really could have just stopped with 'I was thirteen-'"

"Are you going to help me or not?" Fred asked, his agitation starting to show.

Bill rolled his eyes. "Are you going to answer the question or not?"

Fred sighed. "Yes. There's a girl. And...And I think..." Fred paused, looking for the right words. "I think I might be in love with her."

This caught Bill's attention. "Continue," he said, sitting up straighter. That had piqued his interest.

An embarrassed cough came from Fred, clearly trying to buy himself some time to think of the phrasing he wanted. After another moment he said, "Yeah. I, uh, she's great, Bill," he said, the words tumbling out. "She's brilliant, she's really kind, she's got a sense of humor. She's the smartest person I think I've ever met. She's beautiful. She just..."

Bill smiled. "You think the sun shines out her ass, don't you?"

Fred just nodded and dropped his head into his hands, shaking his head. "What do I do?" he asked, the sound muffled from his palms. "She's way too good for me."

Bill shook his head. "Okay, now stop with that," he said, scooting to the edge of the couch to get a better look at his brother. "That's not helping." He thought for a moment and said, "What does she like to do?"

It took Fred only seconds to answer.

"She loves books," he said. "Books and learning and tea and cats."

Bill nodded. "That's a start. Is she still in school?"

Fred nodded.

"Okay, then," Bill said, closing his eyes to imagine Hogsmeade. "Well, you could always ask her about that awful tea shop. What was it called? Madame..."

"Oh, no way," Fred said quickly. "I've never seen her near there. She's usually at The Three Broomsticks."

"Well then ask her to meet you there!" Bill said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world."Or, it's still early in the summer. Ask her to Diagon Alley. You could get ice cream and walk around. There's plenty to see so you can always find something to do. And if it goes badly, you can always come to the bank and I'll help you bail out."

Fred smiled. "You'd do that?"

Bill nodded. "Of course I would. You're my brother." He stood up and stretched, taking in Fred's body language - a mixture of relief and sheer terror. He crossed the floor and put his hand on Fred's shoulder. "And listen. Be yourself, okay? You don't give yourself enough credit. You started a business. You and George have invented your whole inventory. You're funny. You're a nice guy." He gave Fred's shoulder a squeeze and started to walk towards the kitchen before turning around. "She'd be stupid not to give you a chance."

Fred's face broke into a smile. "Thanks, Bill."

His brother's voice rang from the kitchen, "Why aren't you writing to her? Get going, you prat!"

Fred jumped up and was about to head up the stairs when the door burst open and Hermione appeared in the doorway.

...Well, so much for writing to her.


	16. Ducks and Toasters

_**hello! I was wondering if you could do one where Hermione was trying to explain to Fred how to use a muggle object whilst he kept joking and making up things it could do until Hermione finally laughs :)**_  
 _ **-anon**_

Normally, shopping trips with Hermione were spent strolling through Diagon Alley. They'd look at books and Quidditch supplies and robes, new potion ingredients and cauldrons. And, of course, they'd get ice creams from Florean. Ever since Fred and George's shop had taken off, it was even better. Knowing the other owners did wonderful things for discounts.

But this time, Hermione had insisted Fred come to the Muggle shops with her.

"I have to get a birthday gift for my mum," Hermione explained as they climbed the stairs from the underground. "I'd like to get her something from Diagon Alley, but what would she do with a book about de-gnoming a garden?"

Fred shrugged. "I dunno," he said, nonchalantly. "I mean, we could always drop a few in the garden and see where the night goes."

Hermione shoved his arm playfully and pointed up the street as they emerged into the sunlight. "There! She loves this store. They have a little of everything."

The store, Fred noticed, was called Argos and it was incredibly brightly colored.

"What is _this?"_ Fred asked, pointing at a squared chunk of red metal. He saw there were slots in the top and lots of buttons.

Hermione chuckled. "That? It's called a toaster," she said, a bemused smile on her face. "See these slots here? You drop in bread or muffins and it toasts them."

"Really?" Fred asked. "It doesn't bite?"

"No, of course not!" Hermione replied, shaking her head.

"Seems a bit boring," Fred said, inspecting the knobs. "What about these? Do these make it shoot fire?"

Hermione closed her eyes. "No, those adjust how long your bread stays in and how dark it gets."

" _Or,"_ Fred added innocently, "Or, does it determine how far back in time you go? Like if I turn it here," he said, twisting a dial, "do we go back to the 1400s? Can we watch them build Hogwarts?" Fred stopped and gasped. " _Could we go back in time and stop You-Know-Who from ever being born?"_

Hermione lowered her head and shook it lightly, trying to hide her smile. "No, no really, it just does toast."

Fred looked at it sourly. "There should be so much more to it. I mean, if I could just -" He stuck his finger into the slot and pulled it back quickly, feigning pain. "Ouch! It bit me!"

She couldn't help herself. Her shoulders started to shake with silent laughter.

"I'll show it! It should also be buttering and cutting my toast! En garde!" Fred pretended to dance around the toaster while it continued to be very much stationary.

Hermione finally started laughing aloud.

"You are, without a doubt," Hermione said, standing on her tiptoes to reach his mouth, "my favorite person."

Fred beamed and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, letting her lead him away from the perfectly ordinary toaster and toward the furniture. As they walked away, Fred pointed his wand out from up his sleeve while he pretended to scratch his back...and shot a beam of light at the toaster.

Now some poor dear could have toast even when the power went out.

"Is that a rubber duck?!" he exclaimed.

Hermione let out a sigh. It was going to be a very long field trip.

A very long and amusing field trip.


	17. A Long Day

_**For once I am going to ask you for fluff! Can you write Hermione coming home from work and finding Fred passed out on the couch with a baby asleep on his chest? YOU CAN TAKE IT FROM THERE**_  
 _ **\- a-dreadful-penny**_

It had been a long day.

Things seemed like they were going to be pretty routine to start. Hermione had gotten to the Ministry around 8, bright-eyed and ready to start the day. She'd stepped out of the fireplace, taken four and a half steps toward the lifts when -

"Hermione! Hermione, Merlin's _beard_ , it's good you're here. Follow me, follow me," a very harassed-looking wizard spat out very, very quickly, leading Hermione toward the lifts. "It's been a night, such a night. We thought we could handle it. We didn't want to bother you, what with the new babies -"

"Terrance!" Hermione said sternly, cutting her horrified coworker off. He gulped and looked at her, concerned and panic etched all over his face. "Are you going to tell me what's going on or not?"

"Of course!" he replied, letting Hermione pass him into the lift before jamming his finger into the button that read "4."

The lift seemed to take ages to begin to move while the poor thing caught his breath, looking for the best way to forewarn his boss. Now that Hermione was in charge of the Beast division, having been promoted from her position in the Beings division after Amos Diggery was put in charge of the entire Department, she got to hear the unpleasant news first.

"It seems, er, someone seems to have thought selling a litter of Crups to a Muggle pet shop was a brilliant plan," Terrance said, shaking his head. "Ten weeks old, already had their tails snipped. They've been trying to bite the chap's hand off all morning. Got a chunk of a groomer's leg. She's been attended to. They've been going after anyone who comes anywhere near them."

Hermione nodded, closing her eyes to focus.

"I'm going to take a guess that the wizard isn't licensed?" she said, wearily. So much for her good day. This was going to be a mess.

"We're sure of it," Terrance replied.

The lift doors opened and Hermione stepped out, nearly running to her office. "I'm going to need an Obliviator, I think, Terrance."

The rest of the day had gone on like that. A Centaur had a complaint about some Grindylows in a pond. An old woman was convinced a kelpie was living in the water near her neighborhood. On and on it went. She hadn't even had a chance to have lunch with Ron and Harry, something they'd been planning on.

So it was after dark when a weary Hermione pulled open the front door and stepped inside, exhaustion rushing over her. She was doubtful that she would even eat dinner. She might just go flop into bed after kissing her boys goodnight.

When she peered around the corner into the sitting room, her heart started to flutter. There, fast asleep on the couch, was Fred. And on his chest were two, tightly wrapped bundles of blankets - their twins, Jack and Chandler.

She could never have imagined Fred's reaction to the boys. She knew he would be a great father. She'd seen him with his nephews, knew how he'd react. But with his own...watching him with them, feeding them, loving them, hugging them, singing to them, reading them stories...Hermione knew she was in love with Fred when she married him, but she'd never realized just how much more she'd love him every single day.

Like now. Seeing him, asleep on the couch, the boys asleep, a father and his sons. It made her breath catch in her lungs, an uncontrollable smile playing on her lips.

Hermione could feel her heart melt. She walked into the room and pressed a kiss to Fred's lips, softly, before moving to kiss her babies on their soft little foreheads.

Then she heard Fred moan.

"No...come back...I wasn't done..." he whined, not opening his eyes. "Come back and kiss me."

Hermione smiled. "Let's take the boys to bed and you can have me all to yourself."


	18. First Dinner

_**Oh my god. I love your blog and I'd love to see Hermione and Fred dating and going to their first Weasley Sunday Dinner actually together 3**_  
 _ **-anon**_

Hermione tugged on the hem of her sweater and looked around nervously. She'd been to the Burrow dozens of times, but never like this. What if Molly decided she liked her as an extended member of the family, but not with one of her sons? What if she told Fred to never see her again? What if she didn't even let her in the house? What if -

"Alright, Hermione?"

She looked up to see Fred's freckled and slightly concerned face looking down at her. His usual half-smile was still playing across his lips, and she wasn't sure she'd ever seen him without it. It was his trademark, the way she knew he was okay. She'd worry if he didn't look like he was up to something.

Nodding her head once, she swallowed. "I'm - I'm fine. I'm just, you know -"

"Hermione," Fred said, turning to face her and putting his hands on her shoulders. "Mum loves you, you know that right?" He pressed a kiss to the top of her head before pulling away and smiling at her. "She already thinks you're a part of the family. They all do. Now we're just, you know, making things official."

Hermione nodded, still nervous, but trying to not look it. How could she be nervous when Fred was looking at her like that? Before she could respond he said, "Besides, Bill's got Fleur here so Mum'll be thrilled that you're not her. Charlie's surprising her, so she'll probably be telling him how," Fred put on a shrill imitation of his mother's voice, "it's about time he settled down and can't he just look for a teaching post and find a nice girl?"

"Talking about Charlie, are you?"

The door opened and Ron leaned against the jamb, smirking at the pair of them. "I'm just glad he's older than me and she can leave me out of it."

Fred waggled his eyebrows at his youngest brother. "What ever happened to _Lav-Lav?"_ Ron's ears turned a vivid shade of red, blending into his hair, and his face went white before joining his ears in their attempt to disappear into his mop of ginger on top of his head.

"Don't talk about her," Ron mumbled, kicking at a rock.

"Afraid she's going to appear out of thin air?" a voice from behind Hermione and Fred chimed in. She turned around to see Charlie Weasley, who had just appeared in the yard, scattering chickens in his wake.

"Shut up!" Ron groaned, looking desperately at Hermione, who was now trying to keep herself from giggling. "Come on, Hermione, you've been my friend longer than you've been his girlfriend!"

Hermione's lips tightened as she fought against laughter. "I - I know!" She gasped, still fighting. "I'm sorry, Ron!" Fred had been right. She had nothing to be afraid of. They were the same friends she'd always had. The only difference was now instead of watching Fred, George, Bill, Ron, Charlie and Ginny play Quidditch right after dinner, she'd be stealing Fred away for a few moments alone before they all missed him.

"I hear voices!" Mrs. Weasley called from inside the house. Fred chuckled. "That's typically not a good sign, Mum!"

Mrs. Weasley appeared at the door, brandishing a wooden spoon. "Oh, I should have known better with you around," she said, turning to Hermione and giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Oh, dear, how are you? It's so good to see you. Come in, come i- _Charlie, what are you doing home?"_

She launched herself out the door, knocking Fred aside, and threw her arms around Charlie in a bone-crushing hug. He laughed, hugging her back. "Surprise, Mum!"

"What am I, Mum, minced doxies?" Fred asked, feigning offense.

She waved him off. "Oh, hush, you and George pop over here every time you've run out of clean clothes or you don't want to cook." She looked at Hermione and sighed. "I promise I'll have him trained up before he's yours to deal with permanently."

Hermione laughed as Mrs. Weasley lead Charlie inside, Ron falling in behind. Fred wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist, pressed a kiss to her head, and walked her through the door.

Inside was chaos.

Ginny was shouting at Mr. Weasley, Fleur was standing huffily in the corner, and Bill looked as though he was about to be torn in half.

"Of course, take her side!" Ginny shouted, glaring at her father. "Just because he's marrying her doesn't mean I have to let her treat me like -" She stopped abruptly and let out a squeal. "Hermione!" Ginny darted over to Hermione, her arguments forgotten. Hermione threw her arms around her friend, a smile lighting up her face.

"It's so good to see you!" she said, taking a step back to get a good look at Ginny, who was still smiling at her.

Ginny nodded. "I've missed you so much, you've no idea -" she grabbed Hermione's hand and started to lead her out of the room when Fred grabbed Hermione's other hand. "Hey, she's with me this time!"

"You've just gotten time with her! It's my turn -"

"Time with her? I've picked her up and brought her here, I only just got to formally meet her parents -"

" - need to tell her what's been going - "

" - I'd like five minutes with my girlfriend if you don't - "

"Shut up!"

The last voice belonged to Bill, who looked like he was going to be downing a pain-reducing potion at any moment while he rubbed his temples. "Can we stop with the shouting? Mum said dinner's ready and I've had it with the fighting."

Ginny flipped her sheet of flaming hair over her shoulder and flounced out of the room and through the back door to the yard where Mrs. Weasley had set up the tables. She shot Bill an apologetic look as she went. It wasn't him she was angry at.

Bill sighed, clapped Charlie on the shoulder and followed her out. Hermione distinctly heard, "never get married" in his hushed conversation. Mr. Weasley had already left with Ron, and George came barreling out of nowhere, catching Hermione around the middle and spinning her around in the air. Hermione shrieked with laughter before he put her back firmly on the ground. "Hi, little sis!" he said before punching Fred in the arm. "Hey, for once we're not the one on the shit list, eh, Freddie?" George threw his arms around Fred and Hermione's shoulders and steered them out to dinner.

Hermione and Ginny had agreed to help with the dishes - Hermione because she wanted to be helpful and Ginny to be apologetic not to Fleur, but to Mrs. Weasley. Molly had apologized to Hermione for being so distracted, explaining that they were in the midst of heavy wedding planning and it was wearing on everyone's nerves.

"It's the close quarters, dear," she said, adding that things would be better once Fleur was back in with Bill in Diagon Alley, that it was only temporary. "I do hope your summer's been going well. Harry should be here in a few days. We're just waiting on Dumbledore..."

But Hermione really wasn't concerned with Harry. Once school started, she'd be with him and Ron non-stop. No, right now she was more concerned with getting in time with Fred before she had to go back to school.

Fred slipped up behind her while she finished drying the last of the plates and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. Mrs. Weasley had gone outside to help Arthur set up lights and Fleur was off walking with Bill. Ginny had followed her other brothers to the orchard to play Quidditch as Hermione had known she would.

He leaned into her and pressed his lips to her neck. Hermione sighed, the slightest of moans escaping her lips. She felt her face redden. That, she had to admit to herself, was new. Even during her fourth year, with Viktor being the...physical being that he was, she'd never felt her skin electrify the way it did then. It was like a switch had been flipped.

"I missed you," he whispered, lightly rubbing his nose along her jawline. The hairs on her arms stood on end, electricity building in her skin.

If Hermione was honest with herself, she had known she liked Fred as more than her best friends' brother for a while. She'd known the day Fred and George put their name in the Goblet of Fire. She'd definitely known that night in the Room of Requirement when they'd kissed.

But now...now it was different.

She turned her head and caught his lips with her own, pressing herself into him, completely forgetting that they were in the kitchen of the Burrow. It was just them in the world as her lips began to part, ever so slightly, her breath growing ragged the longer they kissed. Fred spun her around, barely breaking contact, and lifted her onto the counter, before moving to close what little space was between them.

Hermione could feel her insides twisting as Fred deepened the kiss, twisting his hands into her hair. No one had to know. If they went upstairs now...

She jumped roughly eight feet into the air when the clapping started. Fred launched backwards so hard he tumbled over a chair, his stocky frame crashing into the floor.

Hermione looked up, her face aflame with embarrassment, to see Bill, Charlie, George, Ron and Ginny all standing in the doorway, applauding them.

"Good show!" George called. Charlie whistled. Bill flicked his wand, a silver '10′ emerging from the tip. Ron stared at Hermione with what seemed to be shock while he continued to clap with an air of disbelief. Ginny gave Hermione a knowing and, it seemed, approving nod while she, too, clapped.

Fred leaned up on his elbows, wincing, and looked at Hermione whose hair was sticking out at odd angles, her shirt pulled up and in a state of disarray, and smiled.

"See, Hermione? I told you they still love you."


	19. Secrets

_**Hermione and Fred are secret dating during the war and hermione find out she's pregnant. Fred survived the war.**_  
 _ **-anon**_

Hermione felt as though someone was continuously pressing a red-hot poker to her arm. The letters that had been etched in only hours before were scabbed over already thanks to Fleur's care. Hermione made a mental note to find her an apologetic gift when the madness had ended - she regretted any ill words she'd ever spoken against Bill's wife.

Harry, she had been told, was burying Dobby. Fleur and Bill had turned their attentions to Griphook, Ollivander, Luna and Ron. Hermione had been left alone. She had just enough time.

Hermione pulled out her wand and conjured a Patronus. The silvery otter floated in front of her, spinning over and over itself as though it were rolling through water. She spoke quickly and softly.

"Fred, we're with Bill and Fleur. Everything's gone to hell. Dobby's dead - Bellatrix Lestrange killed him saving us. I'm okay, er, well, I will be. She, ah, got hold of me, too. Don't tell Bill how you know we're here. You know what to do."

The otter darted away. Hermione wanted to wait for a response, but the need to rest overtook her and her eyelids grew heavy.

"Where is everyone?"

"Shh, Fred, they're sleepi-"

"Bill, Ron's my brother, Harry might as well be, Hermio-"

"They're going to be fine, will you _shut up_ for a sec-"

"Just tell me where they are!"

Hermione's eyes opened slowly, her brain barely registering the voices she was hearing. It was dark now. She'd slept through the funeral. But as her ears woke up, her heart began to pound. He was here.

"Fred, come on, give them a chance to-"

" _Come on?_ Bill, I ask if you've seen them and you tell me _they're at your house_ and you expect me to just calm down?"

Fred's voice was coming down the hall. A door across opened and she could hear Ron and Fred greeting one another before being joined by Harry. They told him the story. Hearing them describe her screams made her realize that she wasn't the only one who had been suffering. Her heart swelled in appreciation for her friends. She'd never been so thankful for a mountain troll in her entire life.

It was then that the door slowly swung open and Fred slipping inside.

Hermione's entire face could have cracked in that moment, her smile tore her face so wide. It was as though the previous 24 hours had never even happened. Fred was here. Fred was standing in front of her. Fred, really Fred, was in the same room. Not just his voice, not a fleeting mention, _Fred._

She jumped from her bed, exhaustion and pain leaving her like they'd never been there in the first place. Here was Fred. Here was the man she loved. He was looking at her like he'd never seen her before.

She launched herself at him.

" _Fred!"_ she exclaimed in a whisper, wincing as her arm bumped his shoulder. He set her back down quickly and asked, "Hermione, are you alright? Merlin's beard, I never should have - shit, Hermione, get back in bed -"

"Fred," she almost moaned. "Shut up." She pressed her lips to his, pushing herself as close to him as was possible. A low, involuntary moan escaped her lips as he pulled her in, seemingly unsure what to do with his hands as they explored her body. Her back, her butt, her upper arms, her hair, nothing was off limits.

She couldn't help a sharp intake of breath as her forearm slid along his shoulder. Fred pulled back, his breathing ragged. "Hermione, let's take this easy."

"Where is everyone?" she asked, gauging time. She had no idea what the hour was.

Fred smiled. "They're all asleep. George thinks I'm still sleeping on the living room floor since he beat me to the couch. Bill told me to wait to see you until morning and to let you sleep, but, well..." He pulled her over to the bed and helped her sit down.

"Hermione, be honest. How are you? I've been so worried. If I'd known where to find you...At least I can hear you with the Patronus, but still..." Fred's brow furrowed with worry and he ran his fingers through her hair.

She nodded. "I'm...I'm shaken, honestly." Hermione held out her bandaged arm for Fred to inspect. He ran his fingers lightly down the bandage before pressing his lips softly to her arm. "It was...Fred, it was awful. It was absolutely horrible. She held me down and sh-she -"

"Shh," Fred whispered, pulling her into his lap. "Shh, Hermione, it's alright. I'm here. I'm here and I'm not leaving until Bill makes me. And even then I might just punch him in the nose and tell him no. I'm not leaving you again."

Hermione looked up, her heart melting as she stared into his eyes.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and started kissing him, slower this time, more intentional. She drew the kisses out, drawing fingers through his hair, tracing the back of his neck. Fred let out a moan of his own and whispered, "Hermione, if you keep doing that..."

"You'll what?" Hermione asked, pulling back to stare into his eyes, the look of resolve on her face, she hoped, making her intent quite clear.

Fred shook his head. "Hermione, you've just been tortured. You're not thinking straight."

Hermione continued to stare into his eyes. "I've just been reminded that any of us could die at any moment and damn it, Fred Weasley, how many times do I have to tell you I love you?"

Fred lost all conviction as he pulled her in, letting himself fall back onto the bed.

Fred and George made it a point to come to Shell Cottage as often as they can, Fred making it a point to never sleep in the living room.

So when Hermione saw Fred climb through the portrait hole in the Room of Requirement as those ready to fight the Death Eaters assembled, she felt her heart skips beats. She also knew she had to talk to him.

Fred hugged his brother before clapping Harry on the shoulder and then coming to Hermione and hugging her as 'normally' as he could. It was then she whispered, "You have to survive. You have to survive, you cannot leave me, do you understand?" She said all of this very quickly and added, "Please don't leave me."

He pulled away and nodded. She knew there were a lot of things left unsaid in that nod. She also knew there was a lot that didn't need to be.

It was over. Voldemort's body lay on the ground of the Great Hall, screaming and cheering erupting all over. But Hermione looked around frantically. Where was Fred? He had to have survived. She'd found him during the hour and they'd just sat next to one another quietly, mourning Tonks and Remus.

But now. Now was time for crying and kissing and damn it all, who cared who knew? It was over.

Her eyes darted from one corner to another, scanning the crowds. It took a moment - there were other heads of flaming hair - but when she saw the gaggle, all of them bearing down on Harry, she knew where he was.

She started to run.

Hermione shoved students and adults alike out of her way, running toward the Weasleys. Only now did she notice the twinge of pain in her head, the small cuts on her hands and arms stinging. But she didn't care. None of that mattered. He was alive. _He was alive._

And so was she.

He looked up just as she reached the middle of the Hall and he dropped Ginny back to the ground and pushed Bill out of his way. His brothers and parents looked up to see where he was going. Hermione felt the smile spread across her face, warming her entire body. It was as though everything was moving in slow motion.

They collided. Fred lifted her into the air, a shrill, hysteric giggle breaking her silence, giddiness that he was alive filling her every fiber. He spun her around once before setting her down, pulling her close, and kissing her full on the mouth, taking in all of her.

Hermione didn't notice that his family had gotten quiet until the cheering broke out anew.

Well, that was one way to tell them.

Now she just had to tell him.

"Fred, oh, my God, Fred I love you. I love you so much," she said in his ear as they held each other close. She'd never been so happy.

His strong hands on her back made her feel like nothing could ever be wrong in the world again. "I was so worried, Hermione, I just...I love you, too, more than you'll ever know. Is it - is it too rash to ask you to marry me? Because I'm never letting you out of my sight ever again and -"

"It's not!" Hermione said, spotting her window. "Fred, it's not too rash, especially as there's going to be a new Weasley."

Fred pulled back, a look of shock etched on his face. Hermione felt her stomach drop. He was angry. He wasn't happy. What if he left? What if he'd be joking. What if -

"You're - you're joking," Fred answered, quietly. He stared at her, reading her face as she shook her head. Then he let out a burst of laughter. "Hermione, that's fantastic! After all of this, we could use some good news!"

Everything was going to be okay. She had her family - her entire family - her friends, and Fred - and now a brand new life. She was terrified. She wouldn't pretend that she wasn't. But what's coming would come, and they'd meet it when it did.


	20. Questions

_**Could you write about Fred defending Hermione in some scenario then awkwardly trying to talk his way around peoples questioning, Thank you !**_  
 _ **-anon**_

"Hermione, honestly, you're going to stop them coming up here!"

Hermione looked up from her knitting and Fred couldn't help but notice how much he wanted to go kiss the furrow in her brow that came with extreme concentration. He shook himself awake, mentally. _Focus, Weasley. That's weird. You're so weird. Stop being weird._

 _"_ I will not, Ronald!" she said, irritably. Ron had been giving her hell about leaving elf clothes around the common room for weeks now and, truthfully, it had seen better days. There was obviously a lack of effort from the elves downstairs, but Fred really couldn't fault her for passion.

Though he and George were still going to nick food at every opportunity.

"Come on, Hermione, you can't tell me you haven't seen what this room looks like," Ron went on, pushing her buttons. "There's dust everywhere, the bins are overflowing, your wooly bladders haven't been touched in -"

"How can you sit there and go on and on complaining about how hard _you_ have it, when you haven't been forced into slavery?" Hermione nearly shouted, slamming her knitting down onto the side table. "I don't see you making an attempt to clean up the common room! If you're so worried about it, then you can just -"

"You're throwing them all off, Hermione. _They like it._ They. Like. It. Have you ever even spoken to Dobby? I mean really, he thinks the sun shines out of Dumbledore's - "

"Ron," Fred said, looking from a red-faced Hermione who looked as though she were mere seconds from impaling Ron through the eye with a knitting needle to his dolt of a bother. "Stop being a prat. Just shut up and let her knit, will you?"

George's mouth hung open while Ron glared at Fred. "' _Shut up and let her knit?'"_ He scoffed, shaking his head. "When did you become such a martyr for elf rights?"

Hermione was looking at him with mixed intrigue and surprise. He gulped. He'd done it now. "I'm just saying it's a stupid thing to argue over is all," Fred said quickly.

George shook his head. "Freddie, just last night we went down to th -"

Fred quickly asked, "Hermione, how many hats have disappeared?" over top of George before she could hear him said 'the kitchens to nick food from the elves.' That would have gone over well.

She smiled at him. "So far around sixteen," Hermione said, holding up her knitting. "Hopefully the rest of them - and this one - go with them."

Fred nodded and Ron looked over. "There. See, Ron?" He yawned and said, "Now stop shouting. How am I supposed to focus on the inside of my eyelids when you're making a ruckus?"

Ron gawked at him for a moment before looking at the toy snitch he'd been rolling over in his hand and, in one swift motion, lobbing it at Fred's head.

Fred ducked and the snitch whizzed past his ear, crashing into the wall behind him. He turned to glare at Ron. "What did you do that for, you git?" He knew Ron could be an irritable nuisance, but he hadn't expected that.

Instead of answering, Ron stood up, looked at Hermione and rolled his eyes, and stomped off to bed.

"Good riddance," George muttered as he watched him go. It was a few moments before they heard a door slam.

Hermione let out a deep sigh. "I don't know what his problem is," she said lowly, gathering her things and making her way to her own dormitory. When the door clicked shut, George rounded on his twin. They were the only ones left in the common room.

"So when _did_ you become a martyr for the elves, Fred, eh?" George asked, eyeing his brother with intrigue. Fred gulped and contemplated fabricating a headache to visit Madame Pomfrey. "Weren't you the one last nigh that said, 'I could really use some Butterbeer. Let's go bother the house elves.'"

Fred shifted slightly in his seat, trying to look like he was getting comfortable. "Ah, well, yeah, but -"

"But what, Fred?" George pressed, his gaze becoming too knowing for comfort.

"I mean, she's happy, right?" Fred answered off-handedly, shrugging slightly. "So who cares? She's not hurting anything and Ron was hurting my head with shouting. I went with the lesser of two evils is all."

He knew that defense was thinner than the layer of dust that was settling on the table his feet were resting on.

"Not hurting anyone?" George said, eyebrows raised. "You know Ron's got a point about the state of the common room, right?" he added, motioning to the dust on the table.

Fred shrugged. "I mean, we _could_ clean up if we wanted to. One quick spell -"

George rolled his eyes. "If I didn't know any better..." he started, trailing off as his face became thoughtful. Fred could feel himself growing warm, and it had nothing to do with the fire, as it was very nearly out.

In a horrifying instant, Fred saw the look of discovery cross George's face and knew it was time to evacuate. He jumped up and said, "Going to bed, my head is pounding," at the same time George exclaimed, "Merlin's beard, you like Her-"

But Fred was already halfway up the stairs. He could hear George knock over the chair he had no doubtably tried to vault himself over in an attempt to get to Fred faster. "Come on, Fred! I'm right, aren't I?" he called, chasing his brother up the stairs. Fred raced into the room, closed and locked the door and dove headfirst into his bed, drawing the curtains around him.

He heard the door spring open as George said, " _Alohamora_ ," and footsteps approached his bed. He half expected George to rip the curtains down and demand and answer, but instead he heard his twin whisper into the curtain, "This isn't over." A moment of silence and he heard George drop into his own bed.

Fred sighed. What fun tomorrow would be.


	21. Lights and Scars

_**Hermione gets hurt instead of George in the Battle of Seven Harrys**_  
 _ **-anon**_

 _ **Instead of George hermione gets hurt in the battle of seven Harry's and Fred being the worried boyfriend**_  
 _ **\- puckleberryfan09**_

Hermione had never liked flying by Thestrals, but what other choice did she have? The others were better flyers than she was and it wouldn't do to have Harry anywhere but with Hagrid in the motorbike. No, she'd just have to handle it.

It seemed to take only seconds before they were in the air, flying towards Ottery St. Catchpool. Hermione's eyes were trained to the skies, darting from side to side, looking for any movement she could find besides the other six Harry's and their companions.

"Hang on, Hermione," Kingsley Shacklebolt said in his low voice, giving the Thestral below them a gentle squeeze with his thighs. The creature flapped its wings with more ferocity, elevating them higher into the cold, dark sky. Hermione squeezed Kingsley around the middle, shutting her eyes for only a moment in fear.

It took only that long for all hell to break loose.

All around them were flashes of colored light and shouting. Hermione's eyes burst open and she saw they were surrounded - black cloaks and masks everywhere. It took everything in her not to scream. She could hear everyone yelling - spells, curses, cursing - and it took her a moment before she saw the cloak swish in front of them.

 _"Impedimenta!"_ she called, pointing her wand out past Kingsley's right ear. The spell hit the Death Eater in the chest and he slowed enough that Kingsley was able to knock him backward. He dropped from the sky in front of them.

Lights continued to flash. She saw Fred ahead of them, brandishing his wand while Arthur held onto the broom handle with one hand, his wand with the other. Light from Fred's wand his another Death Eater in the eye and he stumbled as well.

She looked back and had only a second to react, waving her wand instinctively and sending a Knockback Jinx at another Death Eater coming right at them. Green light emitted from Kingsley's wand and she could see, as he turned back to face front, that he had regretted it.

Hermione let out a scream as she saw him - white skin, glowing in the flashing lights, red eyes, slits for a nose...

Voldemort had come.

He was here.

Commotion ahead - "It's him!" she heard, only she wasn't sure which 'him' they were referring to - and she fumbled with her wand. Voldemort was flying ahead.

Kingsley called, "Hermione, duc-"

But it was too late.

Hermione felt as though the left side of her body had been ripped open. She let out a scream of pain that left her throat raw, and slumped against Kingsley, wrapping her right arm around him, panting. Kingsley let out a roar and a flash of light fired at Travers, whose mask had been knocked off. He was sent backwards and Kingsley was trying to comfort her, flying off course, away from the fray.

"We're going, Hermione. We're going. We'll be there soon, just hold on. We'll be there soon. Shh...shh..."

Everything went black.

"Where is she? Mum, _where is she?"_ There was a loud bang and Hermione was startled into consciousness. Where was she? What had happened? Why were people yelling?

"Fred, quietly, she's resting -"

"You have to let me see her, where is she?"

"Hush, she's in here, you have to stop yelli-"

"Hermione!" Fred burst into the room and crossed it in three steps, dropping down to his knees next to the couch. Hermione gave him a strained smile. "I'm so sorry, Hermione, I'm sorry," he said quietly, brushing hair from her face, struggling to know where he could hold her. His hands moved above her body, but he was afraid to touch her.

"Fred...Fred, it's not your fault," she said quietly. "It's not your fault, it's not anyone's fault, it just -"

"I should have been with you," he said resting his hand on her cheek. "I should have -"

"Fred, don't be stupid -"

"-never left you alone, it should have been me -"

She reached out with her right hand, difficult as she was laying on that side, but not impossible, and pulled him in by his shirt to kiss him. She released him after a few seconds and said, "If you keep apologizing and blaming yourself, that's the last kiss you'll have for a while."

Fred nodded quickly and started to open his mouth when everyone else decided they'd had enough privacy.

"Fred, she's going to be fine," Molly said, tucking her wand back into her apron. "I've been tending her. Kingsley brought her over straightaway. Whatever hit her...well, she's got a nasty burn along her side and a few deep cuts, but we'll have her mended."

Relief washed over Fred's face and Hermione added, "There might be some scars, Dark Magic and all, but -"

Fred pressed his lips back to hers, quieting her. He pulled away and smiled. "But I don't care."


	22. The Escape

"This place is incredible," Hermione said to Harry and Ron as she inspected a brightly colored box not far from the front door. There was no answer. Not even one of them pointing out something else which, considering how much there was to see, was concerning.

She turned around to find her best friends already gone. They'd abandoned her. Hermione looked up, and saw the back of Ron's head disappear around a corner with Harry in tow, both of them following one of the twins.

"Well, then," she muttered, turning her attention back to the shop. Pops, bangs, and whirring filled the shop along with the dull roar of dozens of Hogwarts students and their parents. Hermione knew she'd be confiscating more than one item this year.

There, not far away, were the Skiving Snackboxes the twins had been testing the year before. It seemed as though the idea was more popular than she could have imagined - the stock on the shelves was growing thin. She heard one boy moan about the lack of Fainting Fancies. Hermione had never been able to figure out their appeal, but then again, she also hadn't forgotten Umbridge...or her disastrous attempts at Divination...

The hair on her neck began to prickle and she could feel eyes on her. Someone was watching her. Hermione turned around and saw a tall seventh-year she recognized as Cormac McLaggen who, when he saw her look back at him, gave her a crooked smirk. She quickly turned around, feeling blood rush to her face.

Hermione set the box she had been inspecting quickly back onto the shelf and started to walk away, hoping to make an escape. Just as she rounded the edge of the shelf, McLaggen cornered her, leaning up against the shelf and pinning her between his broad chest and the shelves. She had nowhere to run.

She was stuck.

Quietly cursing Harry and Ron for leaving her behind, she looked up at her captor. He flashed her a smile and said, "Looking for a quick escape from class, Granger? You never struck me as the type."

Hermione gulped, trying to force the sickly, overbearing smell of his cologne out of her nose. It was woody and musky and while it might have been alluring in smaller doses, it smelled as though he'd bathed in the bottle and then washed his clothes in it.

"Ah, no," she said quickly, eyes darting around looking for an escape. She could see the back of Ginny's head, but she was enthralled with a pen of small, fluffy creatures. Neville's voice rang out from somewhere deeper in the shop. No one else seemed to notice her discomfort. "Just, ah, getting ideas for Christmas...mail order, you know..."

It was unbearable. Between the smell and oily tone of his voice, she couldn't wait to make an escape. Was he getting closer or was she imagining things?

"What? For that Weasley?" McLaggen asked, laughing. "He seems to be the last person who should be missing class. And I've heard Potter can more than afford his own -"

"If insulting my best friends is your idea of flirting," Hermione said cooly, having had enough, "then you can just move right alon- "

"Come on, Granger," he said, a smirk on his face. "I can show you a good time. We can get out of here, go get a drink at the Leaky Cauldron. Maybe get lost in Flourish and Blotts. Or what about Quality Quidditch Supplies? I need to go buy a new broom, anyway. Quidditch tryouts, you know. You could be dating the new Gryffindor Keeper."

Hermione started to open her mouth but was shocked silent when he pushed a piece of her hair behind her ear. "Come on," he said quietly, "It could be fun. Just you and me. I bet we could even find a quiet place to- "

"Hullo, Hermione!"

The booming voice caused McLaggen to jump away from Hermione in shock, giving her the space to dart away from the shelf. She looked up to see Fred Weasley beaming at her. She pleaded with her eyes and he, somehow, seemed to understand.

He turned to McLaggen and gave him a sharp look. Listen, you, no harassing my customers. If you can't keep your hands to yourself, you can move along," Fred said, cooly.

McLaggen straightened himself up and tried to lay on the charm. "Looks like you've done well for yourself, Weasley. Everyone seemed to think when you and George left you'd fall flat, but you've proven them all wro- "

"Is that so, McLaggen?" Fred asked, crossing his arms. "Seems to me, orders came flying in once we left. Easier to get 'hold of, and all. But you, you were always a slimy little git. You seem to forget that we've been in classes together since we were eleven, eh? I've got your number, McLaggen, and you can ship off."

McLaggen looked like he was about to protest, but Fred raised an arm, pointing to a door. "Out," he said shortly.

McLaggen glared at him and started to raise his own hand, but seemed to think better of it. He turned back to Hermione. "I'll be at the Leaky Cauldron if you change your mind, sweetheart," he said, his voice oozing slime, before he turned on his heel. The door opened, jingling the bell above before he slammed it shut.

"I had a few more choice words for him, but with a lady present," Fred started, turning to grin at Hermione. "Okay, Hermione?"

She nodded, a grin taking over her face. "Thanks, Fred," she said, pulling the hair from behind her ear. She felt as thought she needed to wash all over. "I really appreciate it. I thought he was going to try to whisk me away."

"Oh, I'm not about to let him do that," Fred said, a strange look in his eyes. "That would ruin all m- ahhh, you know, never mind. Not a problem, Hermione. Anything to help."

Hermione looked at him, really looked at him, and saw how uncomfortable he looked. She'd never really noticed how much his eyes sparkled, or how his freckled perfectly dusted his face. His arms and chest were broad and strong from years as a Beater, but not overly so. She found herself just wanting to press herself into his chest, wanting to know what his arms would feel like wrapped around her.

"What?" she asked quietly, not taking her eyes off him. What was she doing? He was her best friend's older brother - two of her best friends, actually. And what would Ginny say? What about Ron?

Then she decided she didn't care.

"Nothing," Fred she quickly, running his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, it's, ah, it's nothing. Really. It's fine. I just, ah, you know, I should get back to the shop. Lot's of eager customers and- "

"We're staying at the Burrow tonight," she said quickly, a smile forming on her lips. "You should, I mean, if you're not busy, I know your mum was planning dinner and it would be really nice if, you know- "

"I'll be there," he said, smiling at her, his grin expanding to take up his entire face.

She felt lighter than air. She didn't even jump when she heard Fred yell at a first year for trying to pocket a small package.

Maybe she'd be able to buck of the courage to kiss him before dinner.


	23. Confessions

_**Hi, can you write about Fred and Hermione telling the Weasley's they were a couple and all of their reactions (including Bill, Charlie, and Percy)?**_  
 _ **ampal98**_

"Hermione."

She stared up at the stars, lost in their glimmering. Constellations had always fascinated her, but she would still never understand how some of them had come to be.

"Hey, Hermione."

She had always loved stars, though. She could remember laying in the garden with her mum, much like she was doing now, watching them, coming up with stories about them, giggling as her mother made her own pictures in the sky.

"Hermione."

She jumped, finally hearing his voice. Blood rushed to her cheeks.

"Lost in thought again?" Fred asked, smiling a toothy grin at her. They'd been laying in the Weasley's orchard for over two hours. She had been vaguely dreading tonight and he was helping to calm her nerves.

Hermione nodded. "Only a little," she confessed, returning his grin with a sheepish one of her own. "Just nerves is all."

Fred rubbed her arm, trying to impart some courage…or just some encouragement. "Hermione, they love you," he said. "You, Ron, and Ginny have been friends for years. What makes you think that would change?"

He had a point. But still…it was a bit different than the two of them being friends.

"What if they don't want us together?" she asked finally, nervously.

"Well," he said, his voice lowering to a soothing decibel. "They're just going to have to deal with it, then, aren't they?"

She rolled over onto her stomach, nearly onto Fred, and pressed her lips to his own. He had been trying so hard to make her comfortable, even waiting until they'd been together a month before saying anything. The only one who had known was George, but that was bound to happen when she was visiting their flat in Diagon Alley.

Fred returned her kiss and then pulled back to smile at her. "No more stalling, Granger." He stood up and reached down for her hand to pull her up with him. "Let's do this."

They walked hand in hand in silence toward the Burrow. The windows were flooded with warm light. Mrs. Weasley had been expecting Hermione to come the next day to finish the summer and she was sure Harry would be on his way as well. It was better that they did this now.

What Hermione hadn't been expecting was for the kitchen door to swing open onto a room full of Weasleys - Bill and Charlie were both there for tea and dessert, as well as Molly, Arthur, Ron and Ginny.

It was only made better as George entered the room and flashed them both a grin.

"Fancy seeing you here," George called, flashing Fred a grin that rivaled his own with a slight waggle of eyebrows. Everyone looked up, and Charlie jumped up to run and greet Fred. There was a clatter of voices - everyone wanted to know why Fred was late, why had he missed dinner, how was he doing…

…And then Molly turned to Hermione.

"Hello, dear!" she said, pulling her into a warm hug. "How are you? We weren't expecting you until tomorrow!"

Hermione returned her hug and smiled as Mrs. Weasley pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"I'm well, thank you, Mrs. Weasley," she said, hoping the warmth didn't leave her once she knew. "I'm sorry to be here so early, we just -"

"'We?'" Ron asked, now looking from Hermione to Fred curiously. "Why _are_ you two together?"

Curious looks met them and Hermione knew they had to come clean. She stumbled over her words, unsure what to say before Fred came to her rescue.

"Mum, Dad," he started, smiling, "Brothers, sister." Ginny rolled her eyes, but the smile never left her face. She gave Hermione a knowing look. "You all know my girlfriend, Hermione."

Voices erupted.

"Oh, Freddie!" That was Mrs. Weasley, closest to the pair of them who was now hugging them both together, which was a very strange sensation with their height difference.

Bill applauded, and called "Well done, you two!"

"You be nice to her!" That was Charlie, laughing as he said it.

"Be nice to her? Have you seen her duel? Be nice to him!" Ginny was laughing, waggling her eyebrows behind her mother's back.

Mr. Weasley came over and clapped Fred on the shoulder, "I'm happy for you," he said, smiling. "It's about time you just become a part of the family," he added, looking at Hermione.

George just sat in the corner, a knowing grin on his face.

Ron was the only one who hadn't said anything and, if truth be told, the one Hermione was most worried about. He sat at the table, unmoving, face set. She didn't want to fight again.

But it took only a minute for Ron to look up and crack a crooked smile. "I'm not sure if I should be more worried about my best friend dating my brother or my brother dating my best friend."

Fred wrapped an arm around Hermione's waist and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "There, still worried?" he asked.

She shook her head and smile, leaning into him. She should have known better.


	24. OWLS and Kisses

_**Hi! Could you write one where Fred is jealous because Hermione is hanging out a lot with a guy, so Fred & Hermione get into a fight and he unintentionally confesses he has feeling for her. [PS: I really love your blog and all the things you write!]**_  
 _ **-anon**_

Hermione couldn't remember getting back to the common room that late in ages. With exams closing in as the pages on the calendar seemed to rip away with increasingly alarming pace, a panicked Justin Finch-Fletchley had approached Hermione in the corridor before a D.A. meeting, begging for her help.

"Please, I just can't wrap my head around the spell," he cried, clinging to his copy of Intermediate Transfiguration. "If I don't pass the O.W.L..."

That was how Hermione had found herself tutoring Justin, usually taking the time after D.A. meetings. After all, if the Room of Requirement was good enough for blatantly flaunting educational decrees about organizations in order to learn proper Defense Against the Dark Arts, it was good enough to practice for an O.W.L. exam.

She found their sessions running later and later as summer approached and Justin's anxiety over his assumed failing grew exponentially. And while she wanted to help, she had her own studying to do.

The portrait swung open as she muttered "peppermint toad" to reveal a very empty, very dark common room. It had to be after midnight, but there was still one figure in front of the fire, his ginger hair illuminated by the flames.

"Galavanting after hours?"

Fred was looking at her, arms crossed, his feet up on the table. Hermione felt her face flush.

"I'm a prefect," she began, but before she could add another syllable, Fred cut her off.

"Spare me, Hermione," he said, pulling his legs off the table and pushing himself up to stand. He picked up his wand and started to move toward the stairs, but Hermione shot out her arm, stopping him.

"Why are you up? Why say anything if you were just going to go to bed?" she demanded, feeling her heart begin to quicken.

"In case you hadn't noticed, Ms. Prefect, I'm in Gryffindor House and I'm within my rights to be in the common room however late I li- "

"You've done this for the past week, making a snide comment and then stomping off to bed and I want to know wh- "

" -ke. It's not my problem if you're choosing to run around with some bloke every night of the we- "

"Oh! That's rich! When you've been out with Angelina Joh- "

"What does Quidditch practice have to do with you staying behind in the Room of Requirement to snog that Jus- "

"That's what this is about?" Hermione realized her voice had been getting louder and louder, and she was now mere inches from Fred's face. He was staring at her with a mixture of hurt and amusement, though Fred typically seemed bemused about the situation at hand. Her nostrils flared, her heart slamming against her chest.

"Of course that's what this is about!" he cried, flinging his arms into the air over his head. "Are you really that blind, Hermione? You're so damn smart when it comes to books and spells, but you really never noticed that I've been waiting up, making sure you made it back to the common room before I went to bed? You never noticed that I've been trying to look out for you? You haven't even once stopped to consider that maybe I'm doing all of that because I really care about you and that I might actually be falling in love with yo- "

Fred's hands, which had been wringing through his hair, flew to his mouth and his face flushed white before turning a brilliant shade of red.

"Merlin's beard..." he mumbled, taking a step back, a light tinge of green joining the red.

But Hermione, whose face had been set in rage, her hair seeming to stand on end, softened. She tilted her head looking at him in a whole new light. She had never realized how pretty his eyes really were or how nicely his freckles dotted his face.

She took another step toward him, closing the space that Fred had opened.

"You...you're falling...in love with me?" she asked, quietly, still taking him in. All Fred could do was nod.

Hermione started to laugh which caused Fred to glare at her. "Oh, that's rich," he said bitterly. "Just laugh..."

But Hermione couldn't stop. She finally looked up at him after another minute and said, "I'm sorry! It's not you. Well, it is you, but only because you actually thought there was something between Justin and I," Hermione said. "I've only been tutoring him for the Transfiguration O.W.L. because he's been a nervous wreck."

Fred gulped. "Wh-what? Tutoring?"

"Yes!" Hermione said, her giggles resuming.

"So then...you two aren't...?"

"Absolutely not," said Hermione as she looked down at Fred's hands, taking them in her own. They were so much larger than hers.

"Well," he said, relief visibly flooding him. "Well, that's, ah, that's -"

"Shut up," she said, standing on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.


	25. Eat Dirt

_**Prompt I found (thought you might like it): Person A rarely cleans their room but when they do, it's only when they know Person B is coming over. Person C is A's roommate and just cackles whenever A is frantically cleaning their shared home. (Bonus: Person B comes 5 minutes early and they hear muffled screeching from the inside, and A yelling "Fuck it all!We live outside!And we eat bark and sticks and dirt and shit!")**_  
 _ **-anon**_

It seemed to happen like this every time.

Through the natural course of experimentation, Fred Weasley's bedroom in the flat he shared with his twin brother was typically what would be classified as a Class 4 disaster area. While it would start clean - one good charm would do it - throughout a week of product development...things started to collect.

Frog spawn, potion ingredients, the occasional doxy, plenty of magical herbs and plants, books, cauldrons, spilled potions, pages and pages of sketches, burn marks, stains, broken china, bits of exploded cauldrons and even fragments of clothing that had been shredded, burned or somehow destroyed. All of them ended up scattered around the room.

And when did Fred choose to clean it all up? Minutes before his girlfriend was set to appear.

George was used to the cycle and would sit back and watch, a butterbeer in hand, as Fred raced around, cursing under his breath, finding homes for the things that couldn't be cleaned up magically and pointing his wand at everything else.

The last time, George had cackled for the entire 10 minutes scramble, commentating the ordeal like a Quidditch match.

"You could help instead of being a prat!" Fred called as George made an illusion that their little sister's Quidditch team had scored more in their last match than Fred was going to if he didn't get it together.

That only made George laugh harder.

After one particularly long day in the shop, Fred had just flopped onto the couch in the small sitting room, pumpkin juice in a glass on the table in front of him, when a small knock sounded from the front door.

Fred looked at George who had just sat to join him. George returned his brother's frantic look, raising his eyebrows. Neither had been expecting company.

Tentatively, Fred called out, "Who's there?"

"Your girlfriend," Hermione's muffled voice called from the hallway. "I come bearing gi- "

But before the entire word was out of her mouth, Fred had leapt from the couch, knocking over the coffee table his feet had been sitting on, sending his pumpkin juice and George's mead flying, the cups clattering to the floor.

"Ah, just a minute!" he called frantically, pointing his wand every which direction while screaming "scourgify" in his mind. "I'm, ah, making tea!"

"Fred this box is heavy and I- "

"In just a minute!"

Crashes and bangs emitted from behind the closed door as Hermione shifted the box of groceries she'd brought for dinner to her other hip to glance at her watch. She could have sworn she heard Fred screech and George swear as another crash sounded, muffled.

"Everything alright?" she called. This time it was George who yelled back, "in a minute!" through very obvious howling laughter. Whatever was happening in that flat, she wasn't sure she wanted to find out.

"Fuck it all!" she heard Fred yell in obvious desperation. "Fuck it all! We live outside! And we eat bark and sticks and dirt and shit!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and let out a sigh as she pulled out her wand and murmured "alohamora." The lock on the door clicked and she nudged the door open.

The scene in front of her was a breathless, harassed-looking Fred with a smudge of what she thought was dirt on his nose glaring at his brother who was doubled up on the couch, laughing hysterically.

Fred jumped as he looked at Hermione who was eyeing him suspiciously.

"Never," he said, breathing heavily, "accept tea leaves from Hagrid."


	26. Ink and Forever

_**could you do a soulmate au? preferably either you know when you first touch them or you have matching Marks like a tattoo or smth that represents ur soulmate? thank you so much, I love your fics!**_  
 _ **-anon**_

There was an ancient magic in the world that went far deeper than differences between incantations and educational styles. It had been hypothesized by some that it had been the downfall of the Dark Lord that night in Godric's Hollow.

Centuries before, some wizards had studied it, learned from it. And as they did, they started to learn how to harness that power.

Over time, that harness saw multiple forms - charms, pendants, coins. But in the end, wizards realized that if they were harnessing the ability to identify a soulmate, it shouldn't be a decision that would be made too lightly, or be an object that would be easily misplaced or transferred.

That was when wizards started utilizing ink and skin.

Hermione was listening to Professor Flitwick's every word, despite the fact that she had already read the chapter weeks ago. The powers of love and the identification of soul mates was something so abstract that she had been surprised to even find the chapter in her charms textbook.

When a wizard came of age, they were allowed to make a choice to have a charm inked into their skin that would alert them when they had finally met their soulmate.

But it wasn't a decision to be made lightly and it wasn't an easy process. There were consequences in denying the charm once it activated that were different for each wizard. Someone who was naturally open and loving would find themselves much more cold and detached, while a wizard who typically staying in the shadows would suddenly trip over themselves falling in love.

There was a charm, similar to a patronus, that the wizard recited, sending an animal representative of themselves erupting from the tip of their wand. It would find itself fastened into their skin for the rest of their lives.

Hermione, fascinated by the magic involved, as well as the process, hadn't been able to help herself. She had gone over Christmas after coming of age.

Harry and Ron had been simultaneously horrified and awed that she had actually done it.

"Blimey, Hermione," Ron said, inspecting the otter that seemed to shine an inky onyx on her upper arm. "You know what'll happen if that goes off around Malfoy, right?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but she had to admit, it was a very big fear.

And then there was the fear that the person out there with the other half of her tattoo didn't even have the tattoo. What then?

They hadn't seen much of Fred and George since the summer before and for Ron especially, that was what was to be looked forward to when it came to Bill and Fleur's wedding. Fred, George, Charlie. The quidditch to be played.

And the food.

Hermione sat under a tree in the Weasley's backyard, book in hand, two days before the wedding. It had been a morning of preparations and Hermione was happy to have a minute to sit in the quiet. Merlin knew the inside of the house was anything but.

"You two are the _last_ people I expected to get marked," Charlie said as he, Fred and George emerged from the kitchen, brooms over their shoulders. They were heading to the orchard for some impromptu quidditch.

"I wasn't about to let Georgie do it alone," Fred said, laughing. "He was dead set on it."

"You do realize there are consequences if you don't follow through, right?" Charlie asked, eying his younger brother with concern.

Fred shrugged. "It's not that big of a deal, Charlie," he said nonchalantly. "She might not even have a mark."

"Or he. Hullo, Hermione," George said, waving. "Will I ever see you without a book?"

"Not until you pry it from my cold, dead hands," she replied, smirking. "So what's this I hear about you two getting marks?"

George nodded while Fred shrugged. Charlie just rolled his eyes.

"I mean, worth a shot, right?" George asked, while Fred glanced sideways at Charlie.

"It'll work out real well when she finds out it's a blast ended skrewt on your ass," Fred said, laughing.

Before George could respond, Hermione closed her books and crossed her arms. "So where's yours, tough stuff?" she asked, eyeing Fred with interest.

"I'll have you know it's a fox on my shoulder and it's...getting..." Fred dropped his broom and reached out to touch the ink with his fingertips, feeling the warmth coming from the tattoo. George gasped.

"Fred! It's turning blue!"

Charlie nudged his confused-looking little brother and nodded toward Hermione who was now holding her upper arm.

"No way," George muttered, looking from Hermione's now glistening blue otter to Fred's fox. "You guys?"

Fred gulped and Hermione looked shocked. He smiled, though, and reached out his hand. There were far worse people he could have been matched up with and he _had_ always enjoyed her.

"Looks like we have some things to talk about."


	27. First and Third

_**Could you maybe write something where Hermione and Fred first meet? When she's in her first year or something like that..? Btw I LOVE everything you write!**_  
 _ **-anon**_

"Who is she?"

"I'm not sure, but she has to be a first year."

"But why would she just be listening in on us?"

"You're asking like I have an idea..."

"Katie! Angelina!" the ginger twins popped up behind the two third-year girls who had been glancing from their charms books to the girl with bushy brown hair who was occasionally watching them, seemingly taking in their every word from her chair by the window in the common room.

"Hi, Fred, George," said the blonde girl who Fred had identified as Katie, glancing upward. She nodded toward his nose. "I see Madame Pomfrey worked her charm."

Fred shrugged. "Doesn't she always?"

Angelina nodded, closing her book. "I thought the whole point of being a beater was to use the bat to knock away bludgers, not your own face."

In spectacularly dramatic fashion, Fred swung his arm up toward his face, holding the back of his hand against his forehead in mock agony. "You try to save your chaser's pretty face but sacrificing your own and this is what you get," he said, his voice full of mock hurt. "I understand now."

Angelina rolled her eyes, but before she could add anything else, George nodded his head sideways toward the eavesdropper. "Who's the midget?"

Katie shrugged, glancing toward the girl. "I'm not sure," she said, quietly. "Angelina and I were just debating."

"She must be a first year," said Angelina. "I've never seen her before but all week she's been sitting near us, listening to every word we say."

Fred, never one to be shy, crossed the small distance separating the table of third years from the lonely first year. Sticking his hand out to her, he announced, "Fred Weasley, purveyor of mayhem. You are?"

The girl gulped and flushed, but regained her footing quickly.

"I'm Hermione Granger," she said, her confident exterior restored.

Fred looked at the empty seat next to her and, without waiting for an invitation, seated himself. Propping his chin on his hands, he nodded at her. "What's your story, Hermione?"

"I'm sorry, what -"

"George, the one who looks like me, is my twin. We're third years. Beaters on the house team," said Fred, as though he was reciting common knowledge. "We're the fourth and fifth of the Weasleys. Our younger brother, Ron -"

That caught her attention. Before she could stop herself, she said, " _Ron_ is your brother?"

"You've met Ron?" Fred asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione nodded. "On the train. He was sitting with Harry Potter and- "

A look of comprehension seemed to dawn on Fred's face, something that seemed to be greatly amusing to him.

"What?" she asked, trying to remain calm.

"You must be the one who's memorized _Hogwarts: A History_ ," he said, trying not to laugh.

Her face flushed and she quickly started to put her books away, trying not to look at Fred, but he grabbed the top book of her stack, stopping her progress.

"Hey," he said, smiling at her. "Ronniekins doesn't appreciate how useful that book could be. How else are you supposed to find the castle's secrets, eh?"

Fred handed her book back and his grin widened. "Don't be afraid to come say hi every once in a while, huh?"


End file.
